


Fractals of a Criminal Mind

by STARSdidathing



Series: Criminals & Forensics [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attraction, BAMF Loki, BAMF Tony, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Complete, Crimes & Criminals, Criminal!Loki, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Desire, Difficult Decisions, Dinner, Dinner dates, Domesticity, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Falling In Love, Feels, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Forced domesticity, Forensic Scientist!Tony, Forensics, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Hugging, Hugs, Hurt Tony, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Kissing, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Gets a Hug, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Friendship, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Slash, Protective Bucky Barnes, Requited Love, Rescue, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Snark, Sweet, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Tony Feels, Tony Has Issues, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony-centric, Touching, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, Wordcount: 100.000-150.000, Worry, courting, emotional angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 132,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/pseuds/STARSdidathing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Tony Stark is the Top Forensic Scientist at S.H.I.E.L.D. and possibly in the world - if he does say so himself - there’s only one person he’s come up against and can’t beat: international criminal mastermind Loki Laufeyson. He’s gotten close but Loki always has a lackey to throw in front of the blame. He’s completely untouchable and if Loki wasn’t his enemy than Tony would be marvelling at and adoring his genius. But Tony can’t, because he’s a good guy, he has morals and a duty to the public that he’s trying to protect. Loki Laufeyson, however, is equally fascinated and he doesn’t do anything other than what he wants. <b>COMPLETE.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS IT. THE STORY I HAVE BEEN SPEAKING ABOUT FOR A FUCKING _YEAR_. Well, not literally, I started writing this in July 2015 and it wasn't supposed to _get so long, holy crap_. This sucker is about 130K and is _complete_. I prefer to finish a story before I post it and that's what I've done here.
> 
> I will be posting **a chapter every Friday**. I'm still editing the later parts and seperating them into chapters so the chapter count might alter a little bit when I've finished that, but it should still be over twenty chapters.
> 
> Anyway, this baby has been my soul-sucking joy for the better part of five months and I _adore_ it, so I hope you do too.
> 
> Also. I must shout out loud and long about the gloriousness that is HalcyonFrost. She read through every damn stage of this story and assists me with my grammar, my freak outs and my questions (as well as my tags posting this, heh). She is a treasure I wouldn't know what to do without and this story wouldn't be _written_ without her prompting and encouragement. She's just fucking fabulous in every way. ♥ 
> 
> So if you like this story, clap your hands, that way she can see how loved she is and exactly how much she is to blame ;)

There was a very good reason why Loki was the number one most wanted criminal on S.H.I.E.L.D's list despite most people having never heard his name in that context before. 

See, Loki Laufeyson was relatively new to America; he'd only been there a year and a half, but despite his relatively low body count and how few people were known to work for him, Loki was _smart _. He was also by far more dangerous, ruthless and _batshit___ crazy than anyone else. In the time since he'd landed on U.S soil he'd either destroyed, taken over or outright killed any other criminal organization he was faced with and all without leaving any substantial evidence behind to tie him to the events.

The closest S.H.I.E.L.D had ever come had involved Steve Rogers - Captain of one of the two most successful S.H.I.E.L.D teams - and his second-in-command Natasha Romanoff interrogating the man for an hour but gaining little from the endeavour but an urge to punch the smirking foreigner in the mouth; something that their third member, Clint Barton, had gotten a suspension for actually doing. Nothing further came of it, however, as Loki, with a pleasant smile – while still bleeding slightly from the strike - wouldn't press any charges. It had been a constant, if fluctuating battle with Loki ever since; one they were no closer to succeeding in.

Or rather, not they, but _he_ , because despite all the glory going to the Golden Boy in charge of locking the handcuffs on whoever was captured, the true talent lied in one person’s hands, _Tony's_ hands. Not that Tony was arrogant, okay; it was just that if it wasn't for the breakthroughs in _his_ lab they'd still be scratching their heads. After all, who’d spent hours figuring out the calibre of bullet needed to put Justin Hammer away? Who painstakingly went through more charred corpses than he could count in order to put the Mandarin behind bars? Who _learnt a whole new coded language_ in order to crack the Chitauri's hidden messages and hack into their software? Tony Fuckin' Stark, that's who. The underpaid, underappreciated genius who did the forensics for those assholes. He got no respect, only his Forensic Bro - and S.H.I.E.L.D's Head Coroner - Bruce truly understood his pain.

Maybe it was time to put another ‘anonymous’ complaint into the complaint box? 

The idea made Tony sigh loudly as he stared at the ceiling. It probably wasn’t worth Fury’s yelling. Maybe. 

He was lost in thought - picturing the throbbing vein on Fury’s forehead with some relish - but not so far gone that he didn't hear the door to the lab slide open. There was a small scuffing of a shoe to indicate a pause from the person. "What are you doing?"

Spreading out his arms, Tony made the action of a snow angel. "Thought you were an Investigator, Barnes?"

Barnes was one of his favourites; he was Peggy Carter's second in command, and with Sam Wilson they made up the second best S.H.I.E.L.D team. Tony might or might not rush anything Barnes gave him simply because the first words (see: bribe) out of Barnes’ mouth when they'd met had been; " _Get me an answer for this in twenty-four hours and you'll never be without coffee for the next forty-eight._ " Honestly, he was surprised none of the other Investigators had developed such a smart incentive system when it came to him.

"Being an Investigator isn't going to explain why you're lying on your worktable." Barnes moved like air when he wanted to but Tony was getting better at not flinching. He peered down at Tony. "Don't you have something to do?"

Tony scrunched up his face. "We need a better class of criminal; everyone's so boring lately." Barnes pinched his arm, making him start. "Fucking hell," he yelped.

"If Laufeyson shows up again, we know who to blame. God damn jinx."

Tony screwed up his face at the words but there was a gleam in his eye too, one that he'd long since given up trying to hide - at least around Bruce and Barnes. "If Loki shows up again, I might actually get a challenge."

He was one of the few people who could almost say he looked forward to Loki’s return. Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D hated the man; mostly because he'd almost succeeded in murdering Phil Coulson. Tony didn’t have a lot of self-preservation but he had enough not to say ‘ _Loki’s too smart to leave someone alive that he wants dead_ ’ - he would rather not get shanked in his own lab, thank you very much.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Tony wasn't denying that Loki was insane, sadistic and not someone he'd ever want to meet in a bright, heavily armed and guarded room let alone a dark alley; but he was still _fascinating_ , and not only that, he was _hard to outsmart_. Tony got shivers every time something came in that was Loki's handiwork - and Tony always knew. The execution was always beautiful; from something as simple as fraud to the more elaborate assassinations; everything was so intricately tied together and utterly breathtaking that each time he finally revealed the truth Tony could only stop, stare and admire. Because Loki had _plans inside plans inside what didn't even look like plans_ and Tony was ensnared by the genius. 

Steve Rogers wanted to capture Loki for the good of the country; Tony wanted to capture Loki just so he could be the one to _win_.

"Ugh," Barnes grimaced, "you're making that face again."

"What face?"

"Your intellectual orgasm face; it's really disturbing that only dead bodies and criminals cause that face."

"I'd offer to make that face for you,” Tony quipped, “but Baby, you're just not smart enough."

Barnes mouth and eyes had a trick where they smoothed out until they were flat. He was doing that now. "I'm devastated."

Smirking, Tony pushed himself up so he was sitting. He scowled and had to yank his white lab coat out from beneath his ass when it pulled against his shoulders. Barnes was grinning by the time he looked back, but Tony forgave him when he held out a coffee. Tony made grabbing hands and Barnes outright chuckled but passed the beverage on. "How's my fingerprints going?"

Tony waved at one of his screens while taking a sip and sighing loudly with bliss. Barnes walked over and scanned the readout. "It's not enough to prove the guy's a part of Hydra,” Tony informed him, “but the partials are enough to pin two of the five assaults on him. I'm still running analysis on the fibres; hopefully we'll get a match."

"Hopefully?" Barnes teased, but a little of the grim Investigator remained. "What happened, Stark; lose your nerve?"

Tony scoffed. "I have confidence in _my_ Bots. The forensic team who touched my evidence before me? There is more than a little room for doubt."

Barnes shook his head. "You need more faith in the department." Tony's uncomprehending look made him amend, "You need to _project_ more faith in the department."

"I don't do faith," Tony dismissed, jumping off the table. "I do credit where it's due. People don't deserve credit in S.H.I.E.L.D, they deserve to re-sit their entrance exams. I can't be the only person here who knows the manual, can I?"

"You've never read the manual."

Tony waved him off. "Semantics." Tony took another sip before focusing more on the Agent. "Are you done here? I'm bored. And it's quiet. I have something to do. You're interrupting work hours." He made a shooing motion. "Go away."

Cocking his hip against the desk, Barnes watched Tony with amusement. "I bring you coffee and this is the thanks I get?"

"Ah, no. Confirming results, and faster than Coulson's results; that's the thanks you get."

"If you weren't such an ass you'd have more friends."

Tony grinned fiercely. "I'm sorry, Pot, what was that you were saying? You want me to wear more black?"

Barnes rolled his eyes but shifted from the bench. "Don't strain that brain too hard with your comebacks. I'd hate to see it shoot any more screws loose."

"On the subject of screwing; picked up any blonds lately?"

"I already told you," Barnes replied while walking back towards the door, "I don't sell sex tapes."

"Party pooper!" Tony shouted after the Agent as he slipped through the doors, throwing a parting wave and a boyish smile over his shoulder. Tony took another drink, hiding his grin; yes, Barnes was his favourite. 

His friend, really, but they tried to avoid big and emotional terms like that.

When the doors were shut and no one else seemed to be about to bother him - he gave it two seconds for them to try, that was plenty of time - Tony spun on his heel and loudly announced, "Alright kiddies, time to have some fun. We've got some old Mischief Projects to crack, don't we? JARVIS, buddy, play me something soothing."

There was a beat before the A.I. he'd hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D (and they couldn't remove, take that _suckers_ ) rattled the walls with _Thunderstruck_ and his screen lit up with one of the cold cases he couldn't prove was Loki's - _yet_.

* * *

Tony spent five days in the lab, only leaving to grab a shower when even he was noticing the smell. He survived off food left by a combination of Bruce and Barnes. They were far too used to his behaviour by now to be concerned; it was only the rookies who gossiped, who stared at him in the halls as he walked past; his hair sticking up at all ends, shirt untucked with stains on his white lab coat as he muttered and ranted to himself. It wasn’t uncommon to see him scrawling notes on his jacket or hands if he couldn’t get back to his lab or to pen and paper fast enough. 

The new recruits thought he was mad. The older recruits already knew that he was. The difference was that the veterans had been through more than a handful of breakthroughs that came when the mad scientist connected dots that no sane person would ever see. It was why Fury kept him employed. It was why Rogers frowned from a distance, making sure someone checked on him every few hours when he knew his own presence would only frustrate Tony.

It was also why people gave Tony his space and why Bruce and Barnes sighed exasperatedly but didn’t stop him from working. Murderers needed to be caught, and Tony Stark was the man for the job, the _only_ man for the job. He even had other agencies outsourcing him on occasion, and S.H.I.E.L.D never quite realised how important he was until the FBI, CIA or, sometimes, other countries uprooted him for their own investigation. Tony Stark was a prize worth coveting, and it was why Fury let so many of his eccentricities slide. His rudeness, his arrogance, his ear-drum shattering music, and the casual clothing he wore under his lab coat.

It was also why Fury hadn’t tried too hard to get JARVIS removed from the system. 

Tony needed the careful surveillance that he’d only allow his inventions to achieve, and Fury needed him alive and functioning and _on their side_. He was grateful too, if only privately, that Stark had managed to gain at least two friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. He could rely on them to slip into his lab and shuffle Tony to the couch he kept for exhausted collapsing; they also had the added benefit of keeping him loyal to the organisation.

Tony, for the most part, did his best to ignore Fury’s solicitous distance. He was quite determined to undermine and annoy the Director at every turn, and being grateful that Fury allowed him a large amount of slack would utterly countermine his efforts. He couldn’t have that; not when he was sure he was at least partly responsible for Fury’s baldness. It had just been shaved when they met because Tony was _certain_ he had helped him achieve premature loss of hair and that Fury was just hiding it. But, alas, he digressed.

“Sir?” 

Tony blinked at the screen, “Hmm.”

“You have been awake for almost forty-eight hours,” JARVIS informed him, “Sleep is highly suggested at this point.”

“Come on, J,” Tony answered, eyes glued to the screen but hardly registering the blood-splattered walls on display. “you know I work best right before a reboot.”

“Usually, Sir,” JARVIS responded dryly, “you merely stay awake until you solve your problem.”

“Poh-tay-to, poh-tah-to, J.”

There was a pause from the AI before he questioned pointedly, “Of which vegetative category does the theory on Director Fury’s hair fall, _Sir?_ ”

Tony blinked a few times more. “Did I say that out loud?”

“You were drafting it in an email to Dr Banner.”

“Well, Brucey would be amused,” Tony answered, “I think.”

“I must suggest sleep, Sir,” JARVIS insisted. “The case will be present in the morning.”

Tony sighed loudly and dropped his head forward, letting his hand catch it before sinking his fingers in his hair. “I _know_ , Loki did this,” Tony hissed. “I just can’t fucking _prove_ it.”

“He has an alibi for the time,” JARVIS pointed out.

“It just means he got a fucking lackey to do it,” Tony snapped.

JARVIS, unconcerned by the tone, simple continued, “Then you will find Loki did not ‘do it’.”

“He orchestrated it and that’s the same damn thing - and fuck what the courts say,” Tony added at the end, knowing what JARVIS’ next argument would be. It was like fighting with a lawyer sometimes. He swore JARVIS had downloaded the entire legal department just to irritate him.

“May I suggest then, Sir, that instead of looking for confirmation of his presence at the crime scene - perhaps look for evidence at a time when he did _not_ have a recorded attendance at a Gala for the Homeless?”

Tony went to protest when a thought struck him. It made Tony gape at the simplicity, the genius and the fucking _idiocy_ at his lack of observance. “Fuck.”

“Sir?”

“The God damn asshole,” Tony hissed, his fingers beginning to fly over the keys. “Of course he would have enough fucking knowledge to fool us. Of course he would, I’m such an idiot. JARVIS, make a note that if I ever start to treat Loki like a _normal_ criminal, shoot me in the head. It’ll be a better fucking mercy than spending _four months on a case I should have already solved_.”

JARVIS was quiet for a long moment before, “...Sir?” 

Tony spun on his chair before pushing to his feet to go over to one of his other machines. “He tricked us; me, Bruce, Agent Carter, everyone who’s been on this damn case.”

“I do not-”

“He manipulated the time of death. Probably froze the body and then set up the crime scene to look recent. He was careful and patient and _smart,_ ” he muttered the next under his breath, “because he always fucking is,” before speaking louder, “and he made his lackeys do it at a time where he had an alibi we couldn’t budge.” Tony ran a hand roughly over his face. “And the evidence will be shit now that it’s been so long. Damn it.”

“You could not have anticipated-”

“J, I’m offended you’re even attempting platitudes at this point.”

“Of course not, Sir,” JARVIS answered dryly, “it is, of course, your fault.”

Tony smiled but it was sharp and bitter. “That’s the spirit, JARVIS. Now get me Barnes. He’s going to want to know I have a new lead for his case.”

“I’m sure he will be thrilled to have you phone him at four in the morning, Sir.”

“‘Course he will. He likes knowing he’s first on my mind late at night.”

“I’ll be sure to pass the sentiment along when he has ceased his first stream of profanity.”

“Atta boy, J, ask him to bring a coffee too. I have a defrosting process to crack and a noose to tie around a criminal’s neck.”

“Shall I order the scaffolding then, Sir?”

“Nah,” Tony answered absently, “got to let the Investigators have at least _some_ fun.”

\--

They managed to get enough for Barnes to question Loki but not enough to pull him into the station.

“He was surprised,” Barnes told Tony when he got back, glaring moodily at the floor of the lab, his lips twisted into a harsh smile, “when I told him why I was there. It was only when I mentioned what we’d discovered that he look _interested_.” Barnes glanced up at him, eyes wary. “He said we must have talented technicians to make such clever discoveries.” Barnes wasn’t the kind to sneer with his lips, but his eyes told a different story. “He wanted us to know that if we ever required funding that we should inform him as he would be happy to help such tireless workers protect the country from such horrible criminals. He also pointedly told me that he would ‘hate to see that stop’.”

Tony had to admire the balls on Loki to say that to someone like Barnes, to _threaten_ that to someone like Barnes. He might have once looked young and innocent - Barnes could certainly slide the look onto his face in a way that made Tony think it had once been worn freely and carelessly - but Tony knew Barnes had been broken and put back together in the dark. He was still inherently good - he wouldn’t be on S.H.I.E.L.D’s side if he wasn’t - but the Special Forces had changed him. Tony had hacked into enough of his records that he wanted to puke just to feel clean again. He didn’t stop insulting the guy, of course, knowing the guy could kill him with his pinkie wasn’t enough to make Tony stop being himself _or_ stop Barnes from being Tony’s favourite. It just made him snigger when he watched the footage of hardened criminals crack under Barnes’ steely stare; the one that leaked out the horrors from his head and promised they’d be next on his list if they didn’t cough up a confession. Beautiful stuff, really.

The downside, of course, was when fucked up rock met crazy immovable object. 

Barnes could threaten and talk and try to trap Loki all he wanted, but while Barnes was a smart guy and a deadly one - he wasn’t a genius. Loki was always ahead of the game and if Tony couldn’t keep up, what chance did Barnes have? It didn’t stop them from trying, of course, but there just wasn’t any physical evidence to tie him to the man or to the house the body was found in. Tony was trying every trick up his sleeve and managing to chip ever so slightly closer, but for every inch forward he got Loki was always erecting new barricades and casually sliding them into his path. Tony had been about ready to yank his hair out when something very unexpected had happened. Or rather, _someone_.

Tony had been in his lab, ignoring the outside world and spitting curses that centred around Loki being too damn slippery for his own good. He hadn’t known anything strange had been happening until the doors to his lab opened and the music he’d mostly forgotten was playing got cut off. It took Tony a few seconds to realise anything had changed. He tilted his head up to the ceiling, “J?”

There was a polite clearing of the throat rather than the voice of his A.I. Tony spun on his heel to discover there were not one, but three visitors to his lab - one was a scowling Barnes, the second was an uncomfortable Rogers, and the third was a large blond man Tony had never seen before. He looked the man up and down. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Stark, this is Agent Odinson from Interpol; he’s here in relation to the case we’re trying to mount against Laufeyson.”

Tony’s mouth twitched on mount, but one look from Barnes made him swallow down the comment; ah, unprofessionalism how it made Rogers twitch. “Yeah, okay. Good for you,” Tony said instead, “Couldn’t have managed to lock him up before he came to _our_ country?”

Rogers winced while Barnes gallantly tried to hide his smirk by turning his head. Odinson however, had the best reaction, he looked guilty. “I apologise for Loki’s actions,” Tony’s eyebrows rose; as far as he was aware, no one else but him ever used the guy’s first name, “I know words can never truly undo the damage he has done, but I assure you, I will do all in my power to help capture and return him to face justice.”

He couldn’t stop his features from twisting in disbelief at the guy, but also suspicion; either the guy was _really_ patriotic and took every hit made by someone in his country as his own or this was more personal than that. “Okay...?” He waited all of a second before just throwing it out there. “That seems a bit much. You know the guy, or something?”

There was a beat of silence before, “Aye.”

“Adopted brother,” Barnes decided to casually chime in, just to make those pesky uncomfortable moments get even bigger.

Tony took a second to try and wrap his mind around that. He was having difficulty. “You’re an Interpol agent and your brother is an international criminal no one can catch?” His mind boggled. “Fuck, that must make family dinners really awkward.”

Tony hadn’t been sure what to expect after the words left his mouth, but Odinson’s sharp bark of laughter wasn’t it. His smile was sad and guilt-ridden but also bitterly amused. “My father, you know,” he explained, “is also a retired Chief Superintendent.” 

This time it was Tony’s turn to laugh, but it was a little hysterical around the edges. “Oh great, I’m fighting a guy who grew up with a ‘good guy’ manual. Christ, I’m fucked, aren’t I?” But even as he said it, Tony was smiling, fierce and high on energy and adrenaline, his blood was practically singing. “Oh, bring it on, you son of a bitch.” He turned back to his machines without another glance at the three of them. “Not-Brother, I’m going to pick your brain later. Hour. Maybe two. Don’t go too far. Got it? Good. Barnes, I’m counting on you.”

Spinning towards his closest keyboard, he dragged it over and began frantically typing, pulling up numerous windows on anything Odinson and trying not to grind his teeth over why it was only coming out _now_ ; fucking Interpol and their secrets.

“Come on,” Rogers said on an exhale.

“Is he like this often?” Odinson replied.

Barnes chuckled. “No. Usually he’d ignore and insult you, but you’re his obsession’s best source of information, you’re getting the special treatment.”

If there was any other conversation, Tony didn’t pay attention to it. He had more avenues to run down, and he planned on getting as much information as he could. If nothing else, there was sure to be an embarrassing childhood story he could leak onto the internet somewhere. It might not put Loki in jail or prevent anymore crimes, but it would sure make him feel good picturing Loki’s scowling face.

* * *

Tony tried to get a bug on Odinson as soon as he knew the Interpol agent was going to speak to Loki. He wanted to watch that tense brotherly reunion on surround sound with popcorn and a good scotch; unfortunately, Barnes was a pushy son of a bitch and kept getting in his way.

“You spy on Laufeyson without authorization and the case can fall apart,” Barnes told him, arms crossed in the doorway of the lab.

“Oh come on,” Tony wheedled, “I do this for a living. I am the _King_ of undercover ops; no one’s going to catch me.”

Barnes gave him an unimpressed look. “I did. Fury suspects you of it, and Steve is jittery and glued to Odinson’s side just in case. You might not get noticed by Laufeyson, but you sure as hell are suspected of it by all of us.”

Tony gaped and put a hand to his chest in mock distress. “Where’s the trust?”

“Long burnt out when it comes to you.” Barnes voice was hard and firm when he insisted, “Don’t record him.”

“What?” Tony let his eyes go wide. “You’re saying this is a crime agency that dislikes monitoring a criminal’s actions? I’m sorry, what were our jobs again?”

Bringing a finger and thumb up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Barnes forced out a breath that still managed to be remarkably even. “I’ll debrief you on what happens _myself_ , but don’t jeopardise this case. We can’t afford to fuck up. You’ve given us a good lead,” he dropped his hand and opened his eyes, “so don’t blow it up on us, Stark.”

Tony pouted, but when Barnes continued to stare at him Tony threw his hands in the air and grumbled, “Fine. My place, seven, bring pizza and _good_ beer, I’m not drinking the swill you brought around last time.”

Barnes eyebrows went up. “Seven? You do realise we’re seeing Laufeyson in the afternoon, right?”

He’d started to turn away and go back to his computer, throw his brilliant surveillance bug back into the cup that held his paperclips, when Barnes words made Tony slowly face him again. He shot Barnes the most disbelieving look in his repertoire. “You think Loki doesn’t know his brother is here? You think he’s not going to be five hours late to his appointment just to spite you? You think he’s going to do anything but be smug and an asshole and find a way to get our case thrown out regardless?” Tony laughed but it was harsh and angry. He still got a twinge of pleasure at seeing Barnes mouth pinch with displeasure. “Oh, Barnes, you are my favourite, but don’t play with the big boys until you know how to play a dick move and lie your way out of it.”

“You are the expert in that,” Barnes riposted and while still holding Tony’s eyes, he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over a nearby desk. It wiped the smile off Tony’s face and made Barnes snort. “I want the bugs that you had burrow into the lining of that gone by the time I’ve brought the beers. I’ll be sweeping everyone before we see Laufeyson too.” He barred his teeth in an approximation of a smile. “If you’re nice, I’ll tell you what he was wearing.”

“Asshole!” Tony yelled, throwing the decoy bug at Barnes’ retreating back and only getting laughter for his efforts. He fumed quietly in the middle of his lab until JARVIS spoke, the screen on one of Tony’s computer’s changing to show a two column tally.

“Shall I put a mark on Barnes’ side, Sir?” JARVIS enquired.

“What’s the score, J?” Tony asked without turning.

Another stroke landed in the B column before JARVIS announced, “Agent Barnes is currently sitting on a win of thirty-eight while your personal score is thirty-four.”

“Damn him. Erase all data. Obliterate all evidence from existence.”

“Apologies, Sir,” JARVIS announced, a hint of humour tinting his tone, “but as per competition rules, Agent Barnes has his own copy of the scoring located on his phone and would become aware of any tampering or absence.”

“Who was the idiot who gave him his own access?” 

“I do believe it was during the April winning streak-”

“That’s enough, JARVIS. Mute.”

The lab fell quiet and Tony let out a long, heartfelt sigh before making his way over to his computer. He scowled at the tally before swiping it to a different screen. The image revealed beneath it was Loki coming out of the charity gala and proving his original alibi for the murder. The man was smiling at the camera, looking somewhere between amused and bashful. Tony didn’t buy it for a second; there was calculation in those eyes and not five seconds after the photo had been taken, a woman had tripped and ripped open her dress. It was moments later that her shocking affair had been aired like the best dirty laundry.

It had nothing to do with Loki; _of course_ , she had only accused him of lying and stealing his way into gaining her most prized possession; a painting that had huge historic value and that her family had kept its greedy claws dug into for centuries. She claimed that Loki had made her sign the painting over under duress. He assured everyone he did no such thing, he simply bought the artwork for a significant sum so he could donate it to a museum for everyone to enjoy. Did he blackmail her with information on her affair and the tendency she had to whip the poor woman bloody? Of course not, Loki was as shocked as anyone to hear about it when the rest of the juicy details came out over the course of a week. 

Trying to stick anything on Loki was like nailing jelly to a tree, and frankly, spreading some rumours - most of them true - and blackmailing a horrible woman out of a painting that the world could now enjoy for the price of a museum ticket? Tony didn’t see the issue. If all of Loki’s crimes were that tame in nature, he’d still be following the guy and documenting his movements but only for a laugh. It was the murder and chaos that put them on opposite sides of the field, fighting tooth and nail for a victory.

“JARVIS,” Tony murmured quietly, “bring up the other tally.”

“Sir,” JARVIS protested quietly.

“I thought you were on mute. No arguing, do it, J.” There was a pause before the new scoreboard was pulled up. Tony stared at the numbers with his mouth a thin line. “Say it,” he told his A.I.

“Loki Laufeyson is currently sitting on a win of three hundred and forty nine,” he paused uncomfortably, “to your personal score of zero.”

“That’s not right, JARVIS.”

“I protest the use of negatives in this system,” JARVIS told him disapprovingly. 

Tony gave a self-deprecating smile. “Why? If I don’t recognise the crime as his at first, then we both know he’s beat me twice.”

“It was in the early stages of his arrival.”

“No excuse; revised scoring, JARVIS, don’t keep me waiting.” The screen flickered before three red tallies were added to Tony’s side. “Right.” He stared at it for one more long moment. “Alright, remove from the server and pull up the bug on Roger’s tie. We’re sure it’s going to stand up to standard sweeps?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Good.” Tony nodded slowly. “Lock down the lab and inform me the second they get in contact with Loki. I want you to open up all levels of surveillance when they do.”

“I feel obligated to inform you of the illegality of your actions, Sir.”

“Less talking, more law breaking.”

“Of course, Sir. Shall I draft a list of your preferred prisons to make ready for your solicitor?”

Tony chuckled. “You know me better than that.”

“I shall inform Mr Stark to have the jet ready for a suitable country that won’t be allowed to extradite you.”

“I’m sure Howard has an island somewhere for situations just like that.”

“I’ll make sure to recommend such a backup plan to Mr Laufeyson at your trial,” JARVIS sniped.

“Don’t get smart with me, JARVIS,” Tony warned, but his lips were already twitching.

“I must keep my employment options open, Sir.”

Tony shuddered theatrically. “Just the nightmare I need, the two of you working together.”

“Mwahaha, Sir.”

Tony let out a loud laugh and grinned brightly at his A.I. “You’re the best, JARVIS. Do that the next time you see Agent Barton, will you?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

Amused at the image it conjured in his mind, Tony swung his chair in a circle before pushing away to focus on one of his minor projects. There was no point tracing another of Loki’s trails until after he saw the interview with the three Agents. He wondered if he could convince Bruce to go out and get him some popcorn. The morgue was supposed to be pretty, heh, dead at the moment.

Pulling up an email, he quickly typed the request to the Head Coroner - at the very least the banter might distract him for the next few hours before the big family reunion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to both **neutralchaos** and **Coiria** for clapping in the previous chapter!
> 
> I would also like to make note of the fabulous **megalodon823** for the edits she found! If anyone sees anymore please let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t five hours. Loki only managed to be three hours late, and the surprise that he displayed when he found the group waiting for him was so obviously faked that Tony doubted even his receptionist bought it.

Tony was on the edge of his seat as he waited for it to truly begin. He’d had to settle for only bugging Rogers so while he couldn’t see anyone’s reaction other than Loki’s, he could still hear everything and that would have to be enough. Besides, it was Loki that was the most fascinating and important person in that room. Tony could watch the minute play of expressions on his co-workers’ faces whenever he wanted, but Loki? It was like illegally downloading the next blockbuster release before it even hit the cinemas.

“Why, Thor!” Loki announced, his briefcase at his side and his expensive suit and shoulder-length hair immaculate despite it coming towards the end of the day. “I had no idea you were in the country.”

 _Lie,_ Tony thought and wondered if he should start a new tally.

“You have known very well of my movements, brother.”

Something dark and furious flashed through Loki’s eyes, it disappeared in the time it took the criminal to close his eyes and re-open them in a blink, but Tony had JARVIS make note to come back to it later. “I’m not your brother, as you well know.”

“And you would say you’re not our Mother’s son?” Odinson asked pointedly.

Loki’s mouth formed a thin line. “She is dead, Thor. I think she does not consider us at all at this point.”

“And what of her memory?” Odinson pressed.

Loki snorted, a smile at his lips that curved towards amused. “If you have something to accuse me of, Thor, which judging by your company,” he nodded at Rogers and Barnes, “you do, I suggest we step into my office.”

“Why? Don’t want anyone to hear what it might be?” Rogers asked, his voice noticeably agitated.

“I really don’t mind,” Loki said with a shrug, but his voice was sad, painting him a martyr and making the receptionist behind Loki look positively sympathetic. It was a work of art. That asshole. “You always have some new thing to try and pin on me,” Loki continued, “but there are people here trying to work, and Thor is known for a loud voice when a conversation does not turn in his favour. I’d rather spare them the interruption his presence will bring.”

Tony could practically hear Rogers and Odinson starting to puff up with indignation, but Barnes interjected before things could resort to name-calling and a destroyed case. “We’d be happy to take it into your office, Mr Laufeyson. We have all afternoon.”

The dryness of Barnes’ words would have made sandpaper jealous. Loki just attempted to look demure, even while he was sharply watching Barnes. “I do apologise for my late arrival; a matter required my attention and could not be postponed. Surely Mrs Williams,” he nodded at his receptionist, “informed you of this delay?” 

“She did,” Barnes answered and while Tony couldn’t see his face, the sound of his voice made Tony think of shark-smiles and predators circling. “But we found it much more,” he paused delicately, “ _informative_ to wait.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed and Tony cocked his head, wondering if Barnes was bluffing to try and put Loki on edge or if the gossip of a workforce _had_ let leak something useful. Tony would have to interrogate him at dinner. Carefully of course, couldn’t let the Investigator know he’d been illegally watching.

“Hmm,” Loki hummed but otherwise didn’t comment; he turned on his heel and walked to his office. “Hold my calls, Mrs Williams,” he told the receptionist who gave an instant, ‘ _Yes, Mr Laufeyson_ ’ before he was entering his domain like a dragon does a cave, leaving the door open for the brave or stupid investigators to follow. Odinson was the first to react, striding and stomping his way after his adopted brother while Rogers and Barnes came behind.

“Odinson’s too invested,” Barnes muttered to Rogers.

“It might make Laufeyson slip,” Rogers counted, but he didn’t seem sure.

Barnes just snorted. “I’d be more worried about Laufeyson tricking something out of him. I bet it’s happened before.”

“We’ll keep a close eye,” Rogers answered before they stepped into the room, and their conversation was forced to end.

Tony was disappointed; it was always amusing and occasionally enlightening to see Rogers and Barnes interact when they thought no one was watching. 

He was swiftly distracted when Loki began to speak. He was reclining back in the seat behind his gorgeously hand-carved wooden desk. There was a full bookshelf behind him, but his desk and the rest of his office was decorated like a minimalist’s dream. “Now,” Loki began once Rogers had shut the door. “How may I assist you?”

Barnes walked up to the desk and slapped a file against it. Loki raised his eyebrows but leant forward and took it in delicate hands. He flipped through the images, painting on a wince before closing the folder and leaving it on the desk. “Ah, yes. You showed me these images not long ago. You said someone altered his time of death?” His eyes were piercing where they held Barnes’ and Tony was glad that he was looking at it from an alternate angle; they were a penetrating green that displayed his intense intelligence. Tony had already known he had a forceful personality but now he could _see_ how the man could run a criminal empire so efficiently. He looked like danger ran _from_ him which wasn’t comforting when Loki’s next words were released. 

“I must admit, I find it quite fascinating. Can you tell me more about the one responsible for this breakthrough? They must be dogged and have an impressive intellect to have reached this,” he tapped the folder, “point.”

“There isn’t one Forensic Scientist,” Barnes answered, his voice clipped, “it’s a large team with numerous people analysing each case.”

Loki seemed to examine Barnes, searching out a lie, and Tony held his breath, feeling all the hairs on his neck rise and prickle. He felt like a bug that had a magnifying glass scouring around looking for him - where just one wrong move could put him under inspection only to burned. The staring match between Barnes and Loki seemed to go on forever but probably wasn’t more than a few moments. Loki broke it first, a small upturn of his mouth before he announced, “Pity.” He turned to Rogers and Odinson. “I assume you have questions, please, do proceed with them.”

Letting the air rush out of him when the conversation turned, Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I might owe Barnes a beer,” Tony admitted to the room at large. “Shit.”

“It does seem Agent Barnes was right to show concern regarding Mr Laufeyson’s interest in this lab.”

“Probably just a scare tactic,” Tony riposted, but it lacked his usual conviction. There was something _more_ to Loki’s words, Tony just couldn’t figure out what it was. He’d also dropped the subject too fast for Tony’s liking; there was something going on but Tony couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “Check the security of the other labs for me, J.”

“You expect tampering or a breach of S.H.I.E.L.D, Sir?”

“I don’t know what I expect,” Tony gave a faint grin. “That’s the fun with a guy like Loki.”

Tony was just starting to turn back into the conversation where Loki was dancing circles around the investigators when JARVIS announced abruptly, sounding shocked, “Sir!”

“What?” Tony jerked to look at the ceiling. “Is there a breach? Did he tamper with something? Did-”

“A man has just confessed to the murder you are trying to accuse Mr Laufeyson of committing.”

Tony froze; his eyes going wide before he asked darkly, “ _What?_ ”

“Agent Carter is going to interrogate him now,” JARVIS informed him, but Tony was already turning slowly in his chair to look at the screen, to watch the way Loki was playing them all like the conductor of an orchestra.

 _Three hours late,_ Tony thought. _Three hours to rip our case apart and pin it on someone else. Jesus **fuck**_. Tony slammed his fist on the desk with frustration, ignoring JARVIS’ concerned ‘ _Sir!_ ’. 

They’d gotten close, and Loki had known it, so he’d pulled the rug out from under them, had probably planned it the moment Barnes went to question him the first time. He was too smart to let evidence stack against him when he could turn around and take over the cards to put them in his favour.

“Barnes is wasting his time,” Tony said hollowly. “Loki’s nowhere near this case anymore.” He let out a rough sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Turn off the bug. It’s just an embarrassment to watch this charade now.”

“Sir, he may yet-”

“He won’t _nothing_ , JARVIS,” Tony answered, not quite a snap as he slumped in his chair. He wasn’t angry, couldn’t summon up the effort; he would be later when Barnes came in ranting with righteous fury. It was in the sanctity of his lab that Tony could allow himself to admit with an odd mixture of frustrated respect. “He beat me again.”

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was so much easier to win when you didn’t have to play by a rulebook. Tony sometimes wished he wasn’t constrained by it too; that he could fake evidence or hold onto it tightly until he was caging the criminal with no chance of escape. But there were procedures and policies and being _fair_ , which Tony didn’t understand when murders and rapists didn’t treat _their_ victims fairly when _they_ got caught.

 _Loki’s different though_ , his mind told him, and Tony almost wanted to throw something. Because that was the even bigger problem, wasn’t it? There was a small part of himself that Tony didn’t like to acknowledge and that part didn’t _want_ Loki to lose. No one else challenged him like Loki, no one else made him feel so desperately _alive_ like Loki did. 

No one else could match his intelligence and _beat_ him. Because Loki had the upper hand, had the ability to lie and cheat and steal and bend the rules where Tony couldn’t. That’s why his failures stung but they didn’t destroy Tony. He still wanted to win, he still wanted to bring Loki down and shove him behind bars, because inside that smaller part that didn’t want Loki to lose, there was another part that wanted to see what he’d do _in_ prison, wanted to see what he’d _create_. 

Tony also wanted to see what Loki would say when he introduced himself to the criminal, when he looked him in the eye, smirked and said; _I’m the guy who caught you._

Today though, Tony could admit, was not going to be that day.

* * *

They had no evidence to connect it to Loki, but they had a ridiculous amount to tie it to the lackey whose name Tony couldn’t bother to learn. They couldn’t fight it, couldn’t disprove it, and in the end, they had no choice but to convict him of the murder.

Barnes was spitting fire for a week, Rogers destroyed a punching bag, and Odinson walked around with a storm cloud of rage and guilt overhead. Tony let his anger out alongside Barnes and worked on his other cases with fervour.

Fury told them to stop trying for Laufeyson, to wait until he slipped up. Tony outright laughed in Fury’s face and was ejected from the meeting because of it. Tony couldn’t have given a shit; it was a pointless discussion anyway. Loki had won, again, and Tony was back to square one. 

It was just another Thursday at S.H.I.E.L.D., and Tony couldn’t wait to go home.

“J?” Tony called his AI.

“Yes, Sir?”

“I’m having a shit day.”

JARVIS was silent for a moment before his ever-faithful friend told him. “You have not caused some new havoc in Dr Banner’s morgue for a time. May I suggest a visit? I believe you finished working on your animatronic spiders last week.”

“Awh, J,” Tony affectionately told his A.I. while getting up to find his little arachnids, “you always know the right thing to say.”

He really hoped Darcy was working with Bruce today.

* * *

The spiders had been a beautiful success, and Tony had ended up using them for a few days. He’d enjoyed Darcy’s shrieks before her glee had taken over, and she’d ended up stealing a few to terrorise trained investigators by sticking them in the slabs that had their cadavers. Bruce had just sighed wearily and ignored their mischief making in the corner.

All and all, even though Loki had slipped away, and Tony was back to the beginning he’d felt at least mildly cheerful about going home to a scotch and a good movie. It had helped that he’d cracked another case and got the _rightful_ killer behind bars. It might have been 1 a.m., and he might not have seen his apartment for a few days, but he was bright on coffee and left over adrenaline. 

He would have been whistling - had he been the whistling type - right up until he was out of his car, on the sidewalk with his apartment in sight - and suddenly no longer alone.

"You very nearly caught me that time." 

Tony spun on his heel, his eyes wide, and his keys clenching in his hand when he found Loki behind him. The criminal was wearing another tailored suit, and his hair was slicked back but flicking out at his shoulders. His eyes were sharp, and his lips were twitching into a smirk. 

Tony could feel his heart racing as he tried to catalogue how many weapons that outfit was probably hiding. Tony wasn't even holding mace, oh god, why wasn't he armed? Fucking rules about civilians never having to be armed, he was going to die because all he had in his hands was a set of keys with a bobble-head Einstein that Rhodey had bought him as a joke. "Oh, come now," Loki continued, smile widening, "surely a man so full of ego as yourself has something to say to such a compliment?"

"Depends on how likely my ego is to get me shot."

Loki grinned outright. "In such an open space? Really, Mr Stark, we both have far more sense than that."

"If I can almost drive an agent to shoot me _at_ S.H.I.E.L.D, I think I can convince you to do it here. I'm pretty sure you'll have a much lower trigger."

Loki's eyes danced. "I assure you, I don't have _any_ kind of, hmm, _hair_ -trigger."

Tony blinked at the term before he watched Loki’s eyes move. Was it his imagination or had Loki just checked him out? Tony actually glanced down at himself; he was in three day old lab clothes. The guy _couldn't_ be checking him out. Maybe it was for weapons? Maybe Loki was mistaking a cellphone for a panic-button. Damn, he needed to build a panic-button and carry it with him at all times. Who knew focusing on a criminal mastermind and trying to undermine his plans would be so hazardous to his health? Well. Barnes. And Rhodey. And Bruce. And probably others, but what did they know anyway? 

Might as well go down with the ship.

"So what's the occasion for the visit? I hope I didn't miss an anniversary, you know, the old, 'first person I killed in America' one. That would be a shame. Maybe you should give me some more details, dates, a descriptive map to a location with all the evidence of the crime?"

Loki took a step closer, and it took everything Tony had not to jerk away. "We wouldn't like to make it too easy now would we, Mr Stark?"

"Maybe I like easy?" Tony asked a tad nervously as he watched the distance between them close.

"Of course you don't," Loki dismissed. "I've had an eye or two on you-"

"Should I be flattered?" Because he wasn't - terrified was a bit more accurate.

"Oh, you should," Loki assured him. "I allowed myself to be, hmm, _interrogated_ ," he seemed to laugh around the word, "because I was rather _impressed_ someone had even managed to link me that far. It's never happened before, you see. Few people even think I'm involved, others have their _feelings_ ," he waved his hand, "gut instinct and the like, but it's hardly evidence. _You_ followed my path quite impressively." He tilted his head, like a curious cat. “You have for a year.”

"You're admitting you did it," Tony could only stare at him, unable to comprehend the end game. Unless it was him. Dead.

Loki's eyes blazed, and they were almost toe-to-toe now as Loki came to a stop. "I am."

"I could be recording this."

"But you're not," Loki told him. "This is for your ears alone, Mr Stark. Consider it a gift."

"I'm more of a 'return and get your money back' kind of guy."

Loki lifted a hand and before Tony could react, a finger was sliding down his cheek, but Loki's eyes never left his. "I have become quite fascinated with you, I admit," Loki told him as if Tony had never spoken. "I can't help but respect a man who can follow the turns and twists of my mind so closely."

Tony swallowed thickly. "I just play with the evidence."

"Don't be so _modest_ , Mr Stark. Those buffoons with their guns and their badges wouldn't know which direction to move without your guidance." His finger curled, the nail digging into Tony's cheek slightly but apart from a twitch near his eye, Tony kept still. Loki eventually relaxed the digit before dropping it down to Tony's chin and then free from his face. The hand fell back to Loki's side. "I had meant to speak with you earlier, but became... distracted."

His voice was only a little hoarse. “Your Agent-for-Interpol-Brother showing up must have put a real downer on things."

Loki's mouth, for the first time in their conversation twisted. "You are well aware he is not my brother."

"Yeah, hard for him to hold on to such a high position in Interpol if you were legally related - you know, what with you being a _world renowned criminal_ and all."

Tony didn't know what he'd said to make the irritation disappear and be replaced with a smile before Loki leaned in. Tony could feel the other's breath against his mouth. He went to pull back, but Loki's hand darted out like a viper and caught him around the neck, holding him in place. "Tell me, Mr Stark," Loki purred, "does that entice you? A ‘world renowned criminal’ with the world at his feet and all he can think about is the man in a lab, scrambling for answers who is as equally fascinated by him as he is by you?" Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth, watching those green eyes in front of him darken. Tony felt Loki's thumb brush behind his ear, and it made him shiver. "Does the knowledge that you are under his protection make you feel _safe?_ "

"Wha-?"

Tony's shocked question was cut off as Loki pressed their lips together. It wasn't particularly hard, but the fingers around Tony's neck were digging into the skin, a possessive but warning grip keeping him where he was. Loki didn't force him to respond, which was a good thing, because he _wasn't about to_. It still lasted a few long moments but never quite breached into awkward. It ended with the tip of Loki's tongue swiping along Tony’ bottom lip. The motion caused Tony to gasp, but Loki didn't take advantage, although it felt as if he wanted to. He eventually pulled away, and Tony's eyes snapped open (when the hell had he been stupid enough to _close_ them?) to meet desire-filled green ones.

It took Tony a good second to formulate his question. He wanted to ask _why the fuck did you kiss me?_ but there were bigger issues to focus on. " _Protection?_ " he demanded.

Loki's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "I can hardly have you dying while I'm still interested in you, can I?"

Tony could only gape as one of the most ruthless, dangerous and powerful criminals in the world stroked a thumb over his neck one more time before he let him go. Loki took a step back then, his hands folding behind his back before he inclined his head in a polite nod. "Good evening, Anthony Stark. I do look forward to seeing you again."

When Loki turned, his jacket billowed in the breeze, and he walked all of a metre before a sleek, expensive car slid into place. It arrived with enough time that Loki didn't need to break his stride. He pulled open the backdoor and paused just long enough to look over his shoulder - smirk with something that looked far too much like promise at Tony - before disappearing inside. The car proceeded to drive off after that, going to wherever criminals went after confusing the ever loving fuck out of S.H.I.E.L.D forensic staff. Leaving said forensic staff to demand aloud, “What the fuck was that?”

It took Tony far too long to collect his thoughts enough to realise the more dangerous thing that Loki had let slip. He felt himself pale while his stomach landed near his feet. _Anthony. **Fuck.** He called me Anthony_.

* * *

The Anthony Stark story goes like this.

Son of a billionaire, he was an arrogant little shit. He made incredible things and imagined growing up to party all night long, graduate MIT, sleep with anything pretty that caught his eye, and run the company ten times better than his old man.

This was what actually happened: at fourteen years old his mother was shot protecting his father from a crazed employee - the death occurring three feet in front of Tony. The employee had blamed Howard for the death of his brother, a decorated Marine. Howard, wanting to prove the man wrong, had investigated the claims and found out that far from being incorrect, Obadiah Stane was selling Stark Industries weapons to terrorists behind his back. It had still been in its early stages, but thanks to Howard’s ego and drinking he’d never noticed it. Obadiah was sent to prison after trying to kill Howard. A young Tony Stark who had been in the house that night, had grabbed the nearest heavy object, and smashed it over Obadiah’s head to stop him.

Tony had to sit through the trial as he was a witness that helped get Obadiah prosecuted, but it still wasn’t enough. He was angry, so angry that any of it could have happened in the first place. His whole plan in life got spun around and shot down a different direction from that moment. He ran from the spotlight and into the arms of Forensic Science, and Howard, who had stopped drinking and was trying to be a good father, had helped him.

He didn’t legally change his name, but he made people call him Isaac after an ancestor and pretended to be a second-cousin of Anthony Stark. He spun a tail about infidelity and genetics to make people dismiss how ‘similar he looked to the Stark heir’ and enough people believed it that they didn’t think he was anything other than ordinary. Because why would he give up his fortune? Why would he work five days a week for a pittance compared to his inheritance? Why would he bother?

Tony _bothered_ because he didn’t want to be part of weapons making. He _bothered_ because he lost his mother and could have lost his father, and when he looked into crime statistics to feel better, he felt horrified instead that so much was left unsolved and so many people never got any kind of closure.

So officially, he was still Anthony Stark and heir to the Stark fortune. Unofficially, he was Isaac Stark, and he was normal and middle class.

He actually kept the secret for a surprisingly long time despite being surrounded by investigators and forensic scientists. (It helped that he was a damn good hacker and had left a lot of false starts and trails to keep his identity under wraps from people who would just _love_ to sell the knowledge of his whereabouts.) Fury of course, being an asshole, not only knew but was also acquainted with Howard. It was probably one of the other reasons Tony was so reticent with the man. Tony didn’t doubt that other higher ups knew too, but he knew Fury, - and by extension S.H.I.E.L.D and the other agencies - weren’t about to blow his cover. They needed him. He couldn’t solve their cases if he was locked in an SI lab or on the cover of People.

So they kept calling him Stark and never called him by his first name. The only one who did - when they were alone, _completely_ alone - was Bruce. He’d found out after a drunken phone call on the anniversary of Maria’s death and hadn’t spoken a word or treated him differently ever since, bless him. 

Barnes had never been told, but Tony would have been appalled if Barnes hadn’t figured it out considering that they spent so much time together. So, yeah, he knew Barnes was aware even though he’d never said anything. Although, there was his refusal to call him Isaac despite Barnes calling everyone else by their first name; it really spoke volumes.

And that, more or less, was the story of Anthony Stark. 

He’d worked at S.H.I.E.L.D for five years and mostly communicated with his father through Howard’s assistant Pepper Potts. He was middle-class, he was normal and he was a fucking amazing Forensic Scientist. He never missed and rarely thought about his old life. He hadn’t partied since his college days and rarely socialised - and even then, it had always been lightly and carefully, not wanting to reveal his identity.

He kept to himself, kept his name from the spotlight and kept the spotlight unaware of his existence. Life was simple and he felt like he was making a difference - more of a difference then a playboy weapons manufacturer.

Then, of course, Loki Laufeyson fucking happened.

* * *

Tony wasn’t well known for following the rules considering a lot of them where pointless, unproductive things, and irritating - but even he could admit that sometimes there really was no better option. It took him a while to get off the street and into his apartment, too utterly freaked out to register that despite Loki’s words, being in the open _wasn’t_ a good idea. He’d moved fast after that.

When Tony finally managed to get himself up to his apartment, he was jittering like he’d ingested too much coffee, and after sweeping his home like he was expecting to find landmines in every corner; he grabbed an unopened, un-tampered bottle of scotch. He uncapped it with one hand and picked up his phone with the other. He’d run it through his head multiple times, trying to justify not doing it, but in the end, he knew it needed to happen. He couldn’t bury his head in the sand just because a part of him was terrified it would mean people finding out who he was. He’d rather be famous again than dead. So, S.H.I.E.L.D rulebook, here he was. “JARVIS,” he croaked, “get me Barnes.”

His ever faithful A.I. instantly complied - and he’d need to add JARVIS to his apartment now if he wanted to keep _Loki Laufeyson out_ , damn it. He had been trying to get the hang of this ‘living modest’ thing. He’d like to think he’d almost gotten it too. 

The phone rang twice before he got a questioned and slightly groggy, “Hello?”

Tony almost spat out the scotch. “Capsicle?” There was a long pause on the line while Tony panicked for an entirely different reason. Bad Barnes - they were supposed to be discreet, and Tony was supposed to have no idea. _Play dumb, play dumb._ “What are you doing answering Barnes’ phone?” Well, he did have a good excuse. “Actually, fuck that. You’re reliving your old academy days and got drunk, I don’t care. I have a problem.”

“Of course you do,” Rogers sounded alert now, if long-suffering and maybe a little relieved, Tony would have rolled his eyes at any other time. “What happened? Did you lock your keys in your car again?”

“ _Steve,_ ” he heard Barnes in the background, a smile in his voice. Tony almost hated to ruin Barnes’ good mood, but he had no problem ruining Rogers’ exasperation.

Tony looked at the bottle in his hand, two sips down, but his stomach was already turning. And he was _supposed_ to inform S.H.I.E.L.D. He was in the right even if he was, heh, gonna lie a little. “Loki just paid me a visit.”

The sharp intake of breath was audible before Mr Frigid slid back into control. Tony pretended not to hear the sound of sheets. He was such a good friend. “What happened? Is he still there? Did he threaten you?”

Tony quelled a somewhat hysterical giggle. “Nope. Told me I almost caught him though. Guess he was impressed.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Oooh, ten,” Tony interrupted, “gonna speed, Rogers?”

He was ignored. “Lock all your doors and stay on the line. Bucky,” he heard Steve say, “call S.H.I.E.L.D. and get them to send a team _immediately_. Make sure Agent Odinson is with them.”

“Might want to make sure you have the right phones first!” Tony chimed in quickly, his comment making a noticeable pause occur on the other side of the line. He could imagine Rogers’ blush, the awkward shuffle, the darting eyes. He could also imagine Barnes’ wide-smirk and ‘who gives a shit?’ shrug. Tony would laugh, if he couldn’t also remember Loki’s darkening eyes and a phantom thumb on his neck. He shuddered and his fingers twitched, wanting to rub over the spot and erase it. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Just call me back.”

Tony didn’t wait for a response as he cancelled the call and shut his eyes for a long moment. His voice was a little weaker than usual when he asked, “JARVIS?”

“Yes sir?” The tinny response came through his phone.

“How much am I going to regret telling them?”

There was a pause, “That depends, Sir. How much would you have regretted Director Fury discovering your visitor on his own?”

Tony’s mouth quirked slightly into a smile as the phone began ringing. 

“Good point,” he told his A.I. before taking one more mouthful of alcohol. He was still fairly sure he was going to regret this, but he still answered once he’d swallowed, mentally preparing himself for the long line of questions that he would need to navigate. Hopefully without saying ‘ _well apparently I’m such hot stuff he wanted to kiss me_ ’. There was a limit to even what he would divulge to his friend, or for that matter, his _boss_.

There was also the problem of the main question that was going through his head: _why did he do any of it?_

It was the one he wanted them all focusing on, because maybe they’d help him find a more logical answer that didn’t make his gut clench and his lips tingle. It also meant they might not dig too hard and figure out what Loki somehow had. _Anthony Stark_. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping Loki wouldn’t go about leaking that to the local media.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this update is a little later than usual but it is _technically_ still Friday for me. If I don't update earlier in the day it will be here. Basically, before or after work, haha. Nevertheless, here is the latest chapter, I do hope you all enjoy :)

He already kept his apartment free of anything that could tie him to Stark Industries or his childhood so when Rogers charged in like a bull, leading a team on a Forensic upheaval of his home, Tony wasn’t too concerned. The first thing that Barnes did was stalk over to Tony, nudge their shoulders together and take the bottle straight out of Tony’s hand for a swig. “Hey!” he complained, but his lips were tipping up slightly, relieved to have his friend beside him.

Barnes put down the bottle after swallowing a large gulp. His voice was unaffected; Tony was certain it was from his year in Russia. “You alright?”

Tony thought about it. He almost wanted to say, _'yeah, fine’_ because he knew Barnes would let it go, but if he was going to be lying about most of it already ( _protection, soft lips, his own matching intrigue_ ) he could at least tell Barnes this. “Heh,” his voice was a little high-pitched, but everyone was pointedly leaving them alone, “how bad is it that my friend won’t call me by my _first name_ ,” he stressed the words, “but _he_ will?”

Barnes’ eyes widened noticeably before he leaned in, pressing for an answer, “Was it a threat?”

The problem was that Tony had thought about it, picked it up, angled it, and repeated the words and Loki’s tone while ignoring Rogers’ concerned and constant chatter over the line; responding only absently to the Agent. He’d gone over the whole conversation multiple times, and he couldn’t shift the certainty of his answer. “No,” Tony told him, “Nothing he did was a threat. He was just making sure I knew.”

“I don’t like his interest in you,” Barnes told him darkly.

Tony gave a little half-laugh. “Interest? Come on, man, all he did was congratulate me on my brain.” _And a few other things you couldn’t get me admitting to in a court of law._

“Mr Stark,” Tony almost jumped at the sound of Agent Odinson. His voice was loud and booming even when spoken quietly. He turned to look at the man and found himself resisting the urge to fidget under the intense gaze. “I overhead your remark to Agent Barnes; did my-” his lips pulled, and his jaw clenched, “did _Loki_ speak of your intellect?”

Tony plastered on a careful smile, forcing his arrogance into the expression. “Of course he did, I’m a genius after all. It’s not exactly an uncommon piece of praise, blondie.” _Might be for you,_ he bit down on, because he’d need to have Odinson’s cooperation in the future, and he couldn’t afford to shove him too far off-side.

Agent Odinson looked both confounded and concerned as he slowly shook his head. “Mayhap,” he answered carefully, “but you must understand, Mr Stark, Loki does not praise easily. Our whole childhood, he never found a single person he considered smart. He never complimented another, save our Mother, unless it was with mockery and lies. If he truly meant the words he said to you...” Odinson trailed off before saying, “Then I believe Agent Barnes is both right and wrong to be concerned for you.” 

“Why both?” Barnes demanded.

Odinson seemed to be choosing his words, struggling to find a way to explain. “My brother does not hurt what interests him. He finds it offensive to destroy something that can give him knowledge, but his curiosity has a price.”

“What price?” Tony murmured, but he already had a good idea. He could remember tossing toys over his shoulder after he’d pulled them apart and got bored when he knew how they functioned. He remembered learning a subject that took most people years and then discarding it like trash because it couldn’t take him any further. He remembered dumping a girlfriend because she couldn’t keep up with him, and it made him want to yell at her: _why can’t you understand? Why can’t you learn? Why can’t you be better?_

“It does not last,” Odinson told him simply. “When he is finished, there is nothing left. He destroys it, gently perhaps some might find it - but then, some may not. His first lover, a friend of my own,” Odinson continued, something hollow taking over his voice, “Loki left them because he grew bored. It was when pressed that he did not bite his tongue on what he now thought of their relationship.” 

“What happened?” Rogers asked into the quiet, having come forward to listen. His eyes were sympathetic pools for Odinson, but behind it he was barely containing his rage. “What did his lover do?”

And oh, Tony was not enjoying the lack of pronouns. He could see people leaping to conclusions if they weren’t careful.

“She killed herself,” Odinson stated plainly. “Loki did not shed a tear. I informed him of what had happened and when he looked up from his book, I would swear he was attempting to refrain from laughing at her expense.” 

Tony winced, both at the story, and his own small relief that it had been a woman. God, he was a terrible, selfish, fucking horrible person. Maybe he did deserve Loki fixating on him if he could hear about a woman committing suicide and still be thinking about himself. _Maybe he deserved it for blatantly withholding evidence._

“You said that was the ‘gentle’ way,” Barnes cut through the tension and Odinson’s sorrow with quick precision. “What’s the other way?”

Odinson’s eyes looked as old as time and as heavy as a King on a crumbling throne when he answered, “Ruin. In his vengeance and rage, my brother loses all his formidable wit. He does not allow them their freedom, he brings on them only madness and death.” His voice had been like a decree, weighing down the listeners with the implications. He then blinked and refocused, but his attention was specifically on Tony. “But, I have only seen that brought to his enemies. His torturers and betrayers. You are unlikely to be either.”

“Stark is the top forensic scientist at S.H.I.E.L.D,” Barnes snapped. “What does that make him if not an enemy?”

But Odinson shook his head, and Tony found he was also doing the same. He caught Odinson’s eyes and saw an understanding; Odinson knew Loki after having grown up together with him, but Tony knew Loki from staring in a mirror. “I’m an intellectual challenge. This is a chess game.”

It took Barnes half a second. “Oh fuck, he’s intellectual orgasming you too!”

Rogers made a pained noise, but Tony just cracked up laughing, the tension finally cresting into hilarity. He saw Odinson send Rogers a confused glance while Barnes fumed quietly. Tony couldn’t be fucked to care, he just picked up his scotch and wandered over to the edge of his couch, shooing the team attempting to comb it for evidence out of his way.

“Stark,” Rogers told him. “We need you sober. You’ll need to talk to Director Fury about this.”

“Don’t get a wedgie from all your squirming, Rogers. I just found out Laufeyson has an intellectual boner for me, allow a man his drink.”

“Come on, Steve,” Barnes said with a harsh breath, tension palpable in his shoulders. “Give him a bit.”

Rogers looked ready to protest but Barnes was leading him to the other side of the room with careful, firm touches to his shoulders. Tony brought the bottle to his mouth but didn’t start to tip it; his eyes followed Odinson as he came closer until he was right in front of Tony. 

“Loki,” Odinson began, “is no longer interested in the company of women. I feel it wise to warn you.”

Slowly, Tony lowered the bottle. “Are you warning me in case he makes a move or are you warning me in case he _won’t stop?_ ”

“Never,” Thor pronounced vehemently. “Of the second, I assure you, he would never.”

“So, what? You’re warning me so I don’t shriek back in alarm and shout something insulting?” Tony made a motion with his fingers symbolising a gun. “He’ll get trigger-happy?” _I assure you, I don't have any kind of hair-trigger_ , Tony could hear the laughing, teasing words repeating in his mind, and he did his best to ignore them.

“No,” Odinson answered, “but he is a known seducer. I am warning you, because I have watched and researched you. I know you have no shame in your prolific interactions with men - as will Loki.”

 _Fuck, you and me both, buddy_ , Tony hissed internally, not liking the idea Loki had that knowledge. He’d been damn discreet. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I don’t date criminals.” _Or anyone. I one-night-stand like a pro, but even then, never with the crazies. Well, I try my best not to be with the crazies. It, er, sometimes works._

“Yes, well,” Odinson parroted, and when he smiled, it was almost amused if layered under the heavy, dark emotions his adopted brother seemed to inspire. “Loki does not accept ‘no’.”

“We’re moving back into ‘forcing’ territory,” Tony responded, growing tense and his face sharpening. “You said he didn’t do that. How sure are you feeling about it?”

Odinson shook his head. “I stand by those words. He may not desire you, you have not said that he does,” and there was a worryingly shrewd look there, “he may also grow bored; I cannot say. I have long been unable to decipher the mind of my brother, but he is stubborn and will not relinquish his goal easily. If you are indeed that goal, Stark, take heed of my words: do not face him on your own. A liar, a trickster, and a charmer is Loki and if you fall into his bed, he will not allow you out until he is through.”

His mind conjured it: Loki lying on silk sheets, laughing, smirking and flicking that pink tongue across his lip before he drew Tony down and refused to surrender him. Tony had to hold back a shudder, and for a second, his resolve wavered. 

_This could be dangerous. But, no, fuck that. I’m not about to let my fucking libido get involved. Besides, I know Loki, I know his game. I know saying something about that kiss won’t end well. He’d deny it up the river and back and only mock me for it, and I can’t risk him saying something about who I am. Not now, not when I’m close to catching him. He’d said it himself, ‘your ears alone’. This was a gentlemen’s game for now, but one push and Loki could change that._

Tony swallowed, feeling like he was placing a far too high a bet on a wild card. “Thanks,” he said a little hoarsely, “for the warning.”

He was eyed for a long moment before Odinson put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “If you need to speak with me, know that I will listen.” He gave Tony a pointed look and lowered his voice and shook his shoulder slightly, forcibly getting his point across; “Whatever might need to be said that you feel uncomfortable to tell another.”

Tony looked into those blue eyes and was struck suddenly - _he knows, he knows Loki kissed me, oh God, he knows Loki wants to fuck me, shit, I’m screwed, he knows I lied_ \- but he forced it down and drew a smile from somewhere. He knew how Investigators worked. Odinson could have done nothing but spout bullcrap since he walked inside, hoping it would make Tony react. He didn’t have or know shit without evidence. If the guy really thought his criminal not-brother was putting the moves on Tony, then he wouldn’t be keeping it quiet. He had that _good guy_ vibe that Rogers exuded; he’d blab. So he was fishing.

“Thanks but no thanks, Blondie. I’m more of a repress, repress, repress guy. You know, after I’ve screamed long and loud enough about it that I’ve got the result I wanted, meaning your brother, in prison, for life.” He smirked. “I’m not a quiet guy, Odinson, and I have no fucking shame. You don’t need to worry about me _not_ talking about something.”

Odinson still watched him, not looking completely convinced, but he still let it go and moved back. “Of what else did Loki speak to you about, Mr Stark?”

Tony smiled all teeth and no politeness. “The weather - it’s different here than in Europe.”

Odinson’s eye twitched, and Tony felt a surge of satisfaction; obviously, the alcohol was kicking in. He had a real petulant dislike of people who wanted to _fix things_ for him when he got drunk enough. Or was sober, really, but he could restrain it better than. A little. He just didn’t like people trying to take control, tell him what to do, or assume that they knew better than he did. Puh! He was the smartest guy in the room! Of course, he knew better, and if he thought keeping Loki’s little kiss between him and the criminal was the best thing to do, well, he was obviously right. Add to the fact that said criminal knew something about him he didn’t want leaked to _anyone_ , and you had a lovely little chemical mixture for _not telling not-brother anything_. 

If it happened again, well, he’d consult JARVIS, maybe, and then tell Barnes or Bruce. See, he had a backup? It would be fine.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Stark.” Odinson told him ominously, losing the honorific.

Tony scoffed. “What? Of course I do.”

He really, really didn’t. But that had never stopped him before.

* * *

It took a while for things to quiet down after Loki’s little impromptu visit.

Barnes followed him around like a second shadow, and any time Tony was in a room with Odinson, the investigator was eyeing him with that same suspicious gaze he’d levelled on Tony in his apartment. Tony knew the other had nothing on him. Tony _knew_ that Loki had very carefully made sure the kiss and the conversation had been unmonitored, but it didn’t stop Tony’s skin from crawling any time not-brother looked his way.

Thankfully Fury hadn’t stooped so low as to try and bug him; he’d actually thrown the idea out when Rogers had suggested it, informing the Agent, quite frankly, that any attempts at monitoring Tony would fail within five minutes. Tony might not have liked Fury, but he appreciated that the guy understood him better than Rogers. He wondered if Fury knew he’d hooked JARVIS into the entire S.H.I.E.L.D complex and was monitoring who sneezed where and why. While Tony didn’t personally care what was going on most of the time, he’d still insured JARVIS had access to _everything_ and would relay anything of interest to him. Romanoff might have figured out what he’d done; she usually had a sixth sense about these things - but she’d never tried to call him on it. Anyway, it was useless to speculate who might be catching up to him or not. They knew or they didn’t; Tony would much rather be focusing on Loki who had _disappeared_.

Well, not vanished as in “where the fuck is he?” because they were monitoring his offices and he was working there every day he was scheduled to. It was more that since their conversation, he’d been worryingly quiet on the criminal front; there wasn’t a thing, not a peep or a ripple. There wasn’t even something that didn’t look like him but Tony could tell was on his orders - _nothing_. It wasn’t like him and that made Tony prone to pacing. He knew it was only a matter of time before Loki struck; Tony was just waiting for something big and explosive to happen if Loki was planning it out this carefully.

He’d spent the first week in a holding pattern, waiting for it to spill over into a frantic mess of death and destruction. It did, of course, but not until the second week, and surprisingly, not because of Loki. Hydra, the slime it was, decided to attack. No one could actively pin it on Hydra though beyond one of the people who got killed hissing out their famously brainwashed catchphrase before they died.

It wasn’t enough.

Tony was up to his ears in evidence he couldn’t tie to them, an angry Fury demanding answers, and his own fractured attention that still wanted to focus on Loki. He wanted to find out what the other might be doing underneath the smokescreen he’d just been given by Hydra, but Tony was unable to gain the time.

Barnes was dropping by giving him coffee when he could, but was unable to be his shadow when he was still trying to run down leads and crush any remaining snakes. Bruce was trying to autopsy all the bodies, gain evidence, and not let his sleep-deprived temper get the best of him. He was lucky Darcy was the kind of assistant who wouldn’t back down to a little rage and would just yell right back at him until he calmed himself down. Tony almost wished she wasn’t as busy as Bruce - then he might have someone to email at 2 a.m. when he was stuck waiting for tests to finish and puzzle pieces to slot into place. He had a feeling he knew who was responsible. Proving it though? Hah!

Tony closed his eyes and hissed out a breath somewhere between a sigh and a curse.

“Sir?”

Tony didn’t open his eyes and dropped his chin to rest in his hands. “I need more to fucking tie them to this, JARVIS.”

“You have the dying breath of one of their members.”

“Not recorded.”

“There was a melted pin that-”

“Not close enough to be unquestionably Hydra.” He scowled. “And besides, proving the dead ones were Hydra doesn’t help us stop the fucking organisation now does it?”

JARVIS remained silent, and Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes, knowing JARVIS was now sour at him for snapping. He was trying to come up with a way to apologise to his A.I. when he heard the ping of an email. He blinked and tilted his head to look at one of his monitors, wondering if Bruce or Barnes or any of the numerous other people he’d sent notes to had responded.

 _Sender Unknown_ was not something he expected to see, and he frowned. “JARVIS?”

“The communication did not come from a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Or SI?”

“No, Sir.”

“Huh,” Tony pushed his seat a little closer to the computer screen. “Well, let’s see who got through some impressive firewalls to talk to me.”

“Sir-” JARVIS tried to protest but Tony just double-clicked on the email, his curiosity too encompassing to even attempt to contain it. Tony’s eyes flew wide as he began to read, and his heart seemed to skip a beat before freezing in his chest. It was a combination of shock and a much more damning thrill of excitement.

_Mr Stark,_

_Consider this an anonymous gift from me to you. I know this situation has been giving you some grief - despite being no doubt distracted by a charming conversation with an equally charming individual._ And if that didn’t highlight who was emailing him, Tony would bite off his own finger. _So allow me to give you some assistance. I’m sure you would have discovered this on your own given time, as you’re certainly intelligent enough for that, but let us say that my channels for gaining information are faster than yours._

_I have attached what you will need to complete your task. Do try not to get yourself killed with it._

_-L_

Tony automatically moved the mouse over to one of the paperclips. JARVIS made a concerned sort of coughing noise. “Don’t fret so, J. If it blows up in my face, I’ll blame S.H.I.E.L.D’s terrible encryption system.”

He didn’t wait for the A.I. to complain any further as he opened the document Loki had sent him, his eyes growing ridiculously wider at the _level_ of information he’d just been presented with. This could _cripple_ Hydra. Shit, he hadn’t even realised how deep it went. He knew Rumlow was an asshole and had connections, but he didn’t realise _how_ tied up he was in Hydra’s dirty dealings.

Tony could only sit back and stare at the screen, his fingers might not have been moving for all he didn’t feel them as he absorbed and clicked through what was in the files. “ _Fuck_ ,” Tony hissed. “This is, this is, _fuck._ ”

 _Why would he give me this?_ Tony thought, a hint of panicked desperation tinting the question. _Does he just want Hydra out of the way?_ That gave Tony a bit of comfort, but it wasn’t enough. Loki just, what? Had been saving all of this information for a rainy day? He’d just plopped it in Tony’s lap because he knew Tony was smart enough to find a way to use it to destroy Hydra? Fuck, this was _insane_.

Tony had to take a deep breath in the hopes it would keep his hands from shaking. _Sleep-deprivation_ , he told himself. It wasn’t the fact that astonishment was being overridden by the sadistic glee of stomping Hydra’s face in the dirt. _With the help of Loki Laufeyson_. Tony barely registered what he was doing as he pulled up a new window and began to reply.

_I’m surprised the font you chose for this email wasn’t as pretentious as you - or written in the blood of a thousand school children for that matter. Why the fuck should I trust this evidence?_

Tony licked his lips after it was sent, staring back at where the screen had minimised him: Hydra’s dirty secrets. There was a zip file he hadn’t even opened, dear God what _else_ was on this?

The next email arrived quickly and told Tony that Loki hadn’t set the email to send at a certain time. He was awake and conversing with Tony from some other part of town. Tony _itched_ to attempt tracing the signal, but he didn’t want to give Loki the satisfaction of trying. It would no doubt be bounced off a hundred different routers, and even if he got JARVIS to do it while he focused all his intention on responding, Loki would know, and he’d close the connection before Tony could try and pluck any answers from him.

_You know as well as I do, Mr Stark, that this evidence is accurate. I wouldn’t waste my time or insult your intellect by presenting you with anything else. I told you initially: this is a gift. Whether you choose to use it or not is entirely your decision._

_Not all gifts come for free._ Tony snapped back. _And you keep mentioning how much of a genius I am, so here’s the big question: why would you send me something I could trace back to you? Why help me at all, when all you’ve given me is one more piece of evidence against **you**?_

 _I have hardly committed a crime. A concerned citizen sending in damning evidence against a criminal organization? I do believe many people are lauded as heroes for exposing things like this. I know your S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents are. As for that trace._ Tony could hear and visualise the smirk behind the text, sharp and dangerous. _You have not done it yet and should you try or should anyone else attempt to use this address to get to me (and believe me, I **will** know) you will find it cease to exist._

_I’m sure you don’t wish to cut this to the end so quickly, do you, Mr Stark? Surely you enjoy the idea of having a way to speak with me that no other in your agency has? Why, you could interrogate me whenever you like! I may not answer, but at the same time, I may yet let something slip. Can you throw away that chance at gaining the information you so desperately seek?_

Tony ground his teeth. _So, what, you want to be fucking penpals?_

_Quite the contrary, I want far more from you than that._

The brush of lips that had continued to haunt Tony’s mind came back with startling clarity, but he pushed it back down and focused on all the other things Loki could mean. _I like living, I like women, and I like knowing my friends don’t have a murder count. Thanks but no fucking thanks._

_How funny, I don’t believe I mentioned your refusal stopping me._

_Yeah_ , and Tony wondered if the bitterness would carry through into his words. _An Interpol agent told me that too._

There was a longer pause between responses than before, and Tony filed it away that mentioning Odinson _definitely_ had a negative effect on Loki. 

_You have a situation to resolve, Mr Stark. I do hope you will not destroy this email address too quickly. Enjoy the rest of your morning._

Tony frowned, tilting his head at the screen and the words in confusion. “JARVIS... did Loki just back off?”

The sullen silence he received from his A.I. reminded Tony he had some apologising to do if he wanted to win JARVIS back on side. He would get to that, after he finished staring at Loki’s words and letting them roll around in his mind.

Loki was a criminal, but he had also just effectively given S.H.I.E.L.D. the ability to shut down Hydra, possibly once and for all - and all he seemed to want in return was a means to keep a line of communication open between them. Sure, Loki hadn’t _said_ that, but he’d more or less implied it. He’d also dropped a very appealing piece of bait. Tony was the only one who could talk to Loki freely; he was in a perfect position to watch Loki slip up the more comfortable he became. It wasn’t likely he would, Tony could admit that much, but it also wouldn’t actually help them if he did tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about the email either.

Tony had been battling Loki for a long time; he knew the man was damn good at covering his digital tracks. He’d be waiting for Tony to charge in and trip over one of his wires, and then Loki would shoot back into his shell like a turtle. No, Tony needed to be clever about this. He could fake how he got the files, set up another email address and pretend to track it and ultimately fail. It wasn’t about protecting Loki or his own perverse interest in talking with the criminal. It was purely practical - Loki had given him evidence against Hydra, and he could yet do it again with someone else, all Tony had to do was appease him.

What was a couple of emails here and there in exchange for the fall of Hydra? Tony had put out much more for a lot less - and if he enjoyed it too? The battle of wits with a mastermind like Loki? Well, that never needed to escape the dirty, guilty, morally-reprehensible corner of his mind that Tony was going to bury it in.

* * *

Loki didn’t email him over the next two weeks. 

He probably knew Tony was busy navigating the shitstorm Loki’s goodie bag of evidence had exploded all over everything. Tony had lied, hacked, swore, and covered up any involvement that would get the case thrown out or get _him_ kicked out for conspiring with a criminal. Fury and Rogers were too busy kissing those files to look too closely, and Barnes had lost a lot to Hydra and wasn’t even asking about it. He might yet when his head wasn’t so clouded by much deserved vengeance, but Tony was already mentally preparing his answers for that day.

When it came out a few hours in that _Alexander Pierce_ was working with Hydra, well, Tony thanked himself for being so brilliant as to make Loki intrigued enough to hand that information over. He also doubted anyone was _ever_ going to ask him how he got the files that he did. No one wanted to give Pierce or anyone else from Hydra the chance of wiggling their way out of jail. They couldn’t say Tony had hacked anything if no one was asking. Not that he _had_ but that was what everyone believed. He had the respectful nods and sly shoulder slaps to prove it. Sure, some of the by-the-book Agents didn’t look too accepting, but they were still far happier to have Hydra off the streets than on them to really complain.

Tony wondered if they’d have been singing a different tune if they found out just _who_ had done the hacking. Tony wisely didn’t pose that question to anyone though, not even JARVIS. The A.I. had only just stopped giving him the cold shoulder, and Tony was going to enjoy the moment of peace before the next problem started rearing its ugly head.

Case in point.

The door to Tony’s lab’s slid open, and he turned the chair slowly to face who had entered. Tony blinked and tilted his head, trying and failing to recognise the S.H.I.E.L.D Agent who was shuffling nervously with a very nice but simple wooden box in his hands.

“Who are you?”

“Agent Davidson, Mr Stark.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose higher. “And what are you doing in my lab? Do you even have clearance?” He scrutinised the kid, because that’s what he was: a mop of brown hair and too young for anyone’s good. “You’re not a real Agent are you?” Reaching out with one hand, he typed a few random buttons. “Let’s see if you are.”

The buttons didn’t mean anything - JARVIS was doing all the work and once he’d checked the system he intoned. “Agent Davidson has recently transferred from Washington. He is currently working with those who monitor and assess any threats S.H.I.E.L.D. receives in the post.”

Tony gave the kid points for not flinching at JARVIS’ voice. He wondered if someone had prepared him for that. That sucked. He liked surprising the newbies. Oh well, more important things to focus on. “What’s in the box?”

Agent Fluffy-Mop took carefully controlled steps into the lab. Tony would normally be a shit and tell him not to enter without proper clearance and permission, but he was too interested in seeing what he’d been brought. “This was delivered by courier, no return address, but it has been thoroughly checked for any harmful substances-”

“Did you _open_ it?” Tony demanded, projecting a lot more irritation than he actually felt.

“No. We determined what it was, and that it wasn’t physically dangerous. The contents will need more thorough testing but,” and he quirked a little smile as he put it down, “they said you’d rather do that.”

“Right, sure, okay,” Tony mumbled, leaning forward so he was eyelevel and able to sniff it: the wood had been treated recently, and there was a rather nice latch holding it closed. He didn’t look away from the box when he told the Agent. “You can go now.”

Floppy Mop hesitated, and Tony swung his eyes around to glare, but he only found the young Agent’s retreating figure. _Not bad_ , he thought, admiring the cut of his pants, but he was quickly drawn back to the box. “Hmm,” he hummed aloud. “X-Ray this baby for me, J.”

“You don’t plan to just open it like you would an email?” JARVIS sniped, still not completely over his cavalier way of handling potentially dangerous digital messages it seemed.

“Come off it, J,” Tony grumbled, a small spike of annoyance growing. “It was fine, stop picking at it.”

There was silence before a small beep. “It seems to be a bottle of some kind; judging by shape alone, it probably contains a form of alcohol.”

Tony brightened instantly and rubbed his hands together. “Way to a Stark’s heart.”

“May I remind you, Sir,” JARVIS quickly cut in, “we do not yet know who sent this to you, and that Mr Stark Snr delivers his gifts to your home address.”

“Let’s leave the damnation until we know whether they have good taste or not,” Tony dismissed and reached forward. He flipped open the latch and pushed the lid back only to freeze. “Damn,” he muttered. 

The label of the scotch was plain to see, and it was very, very good and very, _very_ expensive. It also didn’t take a genius to know who it was from. The wooden box was lined in black velvet while the scotch was artfully laid out on a blanket of green packing paper that had intricate gold design. There was a small card that was tied around the stem of the bottle with gold string. Tony found a half amused, half exasperated smile forming as he plucked the card off.

_Congratulations. I do believe they have lost their last heads._

It wasn’t signed, but Tony didn’t need an ‘L’ or an insignia to know who had sent him the gift. Loki hadn’t even hand-written the note, which judging from how much he knew of the guy, it must have killed him to resist. Loki was too showy, too flashy; he’d have wanted to scrawl in green-ink with sweeping, beautiful cursive using his expensive fountain pen that never blotted - but he couldn’t take the chance. Loki would have known it would have had to go through S.H.I.E.L.D’s mail hawks and he wouldn’t want people cottoning on to his fixation with Tony.

The embossing was done nicely: very professional, very standardized. The scotch was something Tony’s father owned and was one of Tony’s personal favourites. He was hoping coincidence on that or just a very good assumption of Tony’s tastes. The bottle was sealed, and probably completely un-tampered with, but Tony still planned to check it just in case.

He still reached out and ran a finger down the bottle; it was like a window into the life he could have had, the things he could have been drinking and storing in his personal bar if not for his choices. He didn’t regret it one bit, and he _certainly_ wasn’t refusing the good stuff just because a criminal gave it to him.

Pushing himself over to his computer, he pulled up that _Sender Unknown_ and typed a quick message.

He could feel JARVIS’ disapproval and judgement on the back of his neck, but he ignored it. He also ignored his inner Rhodey that was yelling “ _stop encouraging him!_ ” He didn’t think of it as ‘encouraging’ but rather a reward for good taste.

_I hope this wasn’t stolen, I’d hate to enjoy illicit gains, but I’m also not planning on giving it back. So cheers, you’ve just helped stop the bad guys and were a smidge good for a second. That would usually mean I’d offer you a drink, but nope, sorry. I’m not sharing this._

Tony had to stop himself from leaning back in his chair and smiling at the screen. He didn’t like Loki. He thought he was intelligent and a challenge, but he _wasn’t_ amused and pleased by the gift. Nope. He was going to check it for poison - even though he already knew there would be nothing there. He was going to finish his work and not wait for a reply. He was going to pretend that he hadn’t been checking for an email from Loki for two weeks.

He was going to pretend a lot of things if it helped him keep drawing that line in the sand that told him that Loki was on one side and he was on the other. He couldn’t cross it, and he certainly didn’t want to. Loki was fascinating but that was all he could be. Tony was still going to capture him and put him in jail. Emails and gifts he didn’t ask for were fine as long as he never, ever, let Loki get close enough to try for something more.

Because the one thing he couldn’t forget during all of this was that Loki was dangerous, Loki was deadly and could kill him in a heartbeat if he stopped being entertaining and intellectually challenging for the guy.

He was on a tightrope and even though a sick part of him was addicted to the adrenaline, the rest of him knew better. Gentleman’s game though it was, the way it could rapidly fall into cat and mouse with his guts all over the ground and a content cat above him, was not something he could forget.

It was just hard in the face of snarky emails and expensive scotch.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, you have no idea how _difficult_ this fucking chapter was. I currently have no internet and my backup wifi option turned out not to be an option at all. Then the fucking _gorgeous_ **HalcyonFrost** helped and saved me so much with this chapter. Which, I might mention, is being posted and CODED by my phone. If there are errors I apologise. I'm going to try another wifi spot tomorrow to fix anything too serious. But let me know and I'll do it when I can.
> 
> Thanks for your patience! I know this is later than usual!
> 
>  **EDIT:** Of course I have a fucking coding error today. Sorry to anyone who happened to click into it when it was italics everywhere. It's fixed now -_-'

The communications with Loki became more frequent after the bottle of scotch. They never talked about work or their personal lives unless it was after the fact. _The gala I just attended was soul-destroying; I very nearly caused far too much mischief. If I had, would it have been enough to draw you away from your lab, I wonder?_ And Loki never mentioned anything illegal, it was always _pranks_ and _tricks_ , and Tony took a page from his book and avoided outright admitting to what they both knew he could mean. 

_Only thing that could get me there is a murder, maybe_ , Tony had answered, _and I’m not a field agent anyway. You don’t want a crime scene that needs me visiting._

It was almost like flirting, but Tony tried really hard not to acknowledge that. It was easier to talk to Loki when it was by text on a screen. It wasn’t anonymity, but the distance was enough to loosen Tony’s tongue, make him argue, and pick at the other in a way he wasn’t certain he’d be game enough to do with the criminal in front of him.

Loki was still a nutcase and a murderer, but he was charming and funny. It was a cocktail of conflicting emotions that Tony only thought about when he was home alone and burying his face in a pillow because he was a terrible person for continuing it. He was almost worried about what would happen when Loki finally broke and started doing something criminal again - or at least, criminal enough that it reached Tony’s lab. How was he going to keep talking to the guy if he was investigating a murder Loki committed if not physically than by proxy?

Tony’s moral compass had always been painted in shades of grey, but this was getting ridiculous.

It was enough to make him snap.

He didn’t destroy something in the lab or his house, he didn’t yell and verbal flay the poor unfortunate soul who picked the wrong moment to enter the same room as him. No, Tony snapped in a different and far healthier way. He went out to a club and found the first available body that would let him fuck his frustration away.

The woman was beautiful and just smart enough to keep him from drinking to excess to avoid her stupidity. She’d come into the bar wearing tight jeans and a nice top, surrounded by friends but scanning the venue with the purpose of finding one thing. Tony was happy to be that thing.

He’d brought her back to his place, and it had been a good night. She was flexible, if not as physically as others he’d been with previously, but she was open to trying new things and letting him hold her down enough to get a few bruises. She didn’t remember his name, and he didn’t remember hers. She left in the morning with a peck to his lips and an energy bar he’d been happy to give her when she’d asked. All and all, he almost wished he’d gained her number just to have the option of such an easy hook-up in the future.

Tony knew better though; in his career, attachments were a stupid decision unless they could handle themselves or knew what they were getting into. Bruce fell into the latter category while Barnes, Rhodey, and even his father were people you just didn’t mess with unless you wanted to lose a limb or your life. Still, Tony would remember her fondly. Angela. Alison. Annie? Something with an A.

Yawning, Tony made himself a coffee before taking a seat on his couch and turning on his tablet to catch up with whatever assholes had decided to commit crimes on a Friday night. There obviously hadn’t been something bad enough to call him in on his day off, but in a city like this, there was always someone out to make life miserable. Domestic. Domestic. Robbery. Assault. Robbery. Tony was skimming the feed JARVIS automatically collected and sorted for him every morning with only the bleariest attention while also opening his emails. _Sender Unknown_ was flashing at him with a time stamp of 1 a.m.

“JARVIS,” Tony asked, “why didn’t you tell me he’d sent me something?”

It had taken the better part of a weekend to wire JARVIS into his apartment and another two to make it less obvious to the casual observer that an A.I. was now guarding his home and creating a modern citadel.

“At the time Sir,” JARVIS answered, “you were enjoying the company of your guest.”

Tony’s mouth twisted. “Might have put a damper on things,” he admitted while keeping his eyes fixed on Loki’s new message. “Anything decent in the news?”

“Nothing of immediate concern,” JARVIS replied.

Tony had been resolved from the beginning to focus on his priorities and only respond to Loki if he wasn’t needed as a Forensic Scientist. If criminals needed catching, then his personal criminal, the one he _couldn’t_ catch, would just have to wait. It was a - mostly - succeeding system. There were still a few bugs, such as his unending interest about what Loki would say next, but he was _trying_. People got points for trying to resist temptation, right? He hoped so or he was definitely going to be in the negatives by now.

Opening the email, Tony wouldn’t have admitted to being excited even if the feeling was there - but it disappeared in a flash when he read the content. _While it would appear your choice was favourable this time, Mr Stark, may I suggest that in future you take more care when choosing those you would allow entry into your house? It is not my place to tell you how to behave, but do keep in mind that a naked man in his bed is exceedingly easy to stab in very vulnerable places._

Tony read the email twice, hoping the chill down his spine would disappear on the second go through. It didn’t. It also made him feel very tense, as if, despite the distance between them, a single wrong move might end his existence. He was very careful in his reply.

_Was that a threat, a warning, or you telling me that there was a person there last night who could have done what you’re suggesting? I won’t ask how you knew where I was and what I did. I’m guessing this ‘protection’ of yours comes with a lot of surveillance I’ll only get uncomfortable knowing the full depth of._

Checking the clock on the tablet, he knew Loki was likely to be awake. He always got up early; Tony had learnt that and a slew of other little pieces of information over their communication - including the knowledge that Loki very rarely wouldn’t reply to him right away.

It hadn’t been since the first days of their emailing that Tony felt anxiety churning in his stomach, but while the message had been carefully worded, politely phrased even, Tony had to wonder what was hiding under those typed letters. What emotions was Loki holding back? How long had he taken to decide on that paragraph? A part of Tony wanted to demand ‘ _don’t hurt her_ ’ but knew it would be useless if that was what Loki intended. It made him wonder if it _was_ something Loki intended. He’d said protection once, he’d kissed him as well- did any of that translate into Loki’s head as ‘ _mine_ '? And if it did, was that something that should snap the final strand and have Tony running to S.H.I.E.L.D. with what was going on?

A collection of biting and witty email replies were one thing, surely not a sane or smart thing, but it was in a different ballpark entirely to having a man with Loki’s network of criminal contacts tell him something as black and white as ‘ _sleep with anyone other than me, and I’ll kill them and you_ ’. Granted, Loki hadn’t _said_ that; he hadn’t even really implied it. If anything, he was telling Tony to be careful with who he took home. Sound advice, really. Something he’d expect from a friend or JARVIS, hell, even _Fury_ , but it was a little panic inducing when it was a criminal who had a fascination with him and that Tony still hadn’t got a good read on. He wasn’t even sure if you _could_ get a good read on Loki, let alone when only talking through text.

 _That surveillance **is** your protection_. Loki responded a few minutes later after Tony had run around in mental circles trying to analyse the other’s words. _But no, Anthony_. And shit, Tony knew it was serious when Loki stopped using ‘Mr Stark’. _It was not a threat to either yourself or the woman you bedded. There **was** someone at that establishment who could have harmed you but they know not to touch you thusly. I’ll admit, the above email may have crossed a boundary of yours too many. My apologies, but it was kindly meant._

Tony stared. He blinked. He stared some more and then took a large gulp of his coffee for good measure. It still didn’t stop him from reading between the lines. _Holy shit_ , he thought, _you slipped up._

It wasn’t in the way Tony had been vaguely aiming for since this started; it didn’t reveal Loki’s criminal dealings or give evidence to tie him to a crime - but what it _did_ do in that last sentence was open a crack into what Loki had thought over finding out about Tony’s one-night stand. _You were jealous, and holy fuck, you know it, and you’re trying to back step._

Tony let out a laugh, but it was more nervous than anything else. He also put the tablet down and walked in a wide circle around it. That was not something he needed to know or even think about. It took a bit of time to get it out of his head, and he ended up throwing himself into perfecting JARVIS’ implementation into his apartment, but he _did_ manage it. He also didn’t look at his emails or reply to Loki’s all weekend.

When he checked his inbox on Monday, he found Loki hadn’t sent anything to him either. Tony felt a twist in his gut and tried to assure himself it was only the worry of Loki snapping and coming to murder him in cold blood. It was, predictably, not very comforting at all.

* * *

Loki didn’t make a peep for the rest of the week, and Tony didn’t try to encourage him either. It was a slow five days in the lab, but he stubbornly ignored that _Sender Unknown_ account and focused instead on pestering Barnes, bantering with Bruce, and even replying to his father’s email. He’d been putting it off for a week because while Howard was getting better at the whole talking and being a decent person to his son thing, there was only so much Tony could take at one time. Pepper was nice though. He liked replying to her emails with outrageous flirting and terrible spelling errors. She didn’t know it yet, but Howard and Tony had been talking about her taking over SI when Howard retired, Tony was more than happy to give the company to Pepper and simply sit on the sidelines as a shadow Director that always had her back.

He would pay to see her face when Howard told her, or well, he wouldn’t, as he’d be obligated to be there free of charge and to sign the contract - assuming she accepted, which, come on, they both know she would. It was just a matter of time. Howard was getting older - he’d want out, or at least out but to still be a Director for a few more years. Tony wished the best of luck to them; he knew he’d be a terrible CEO. He’d much rather be where he was needed, right here - although, he could do without the boredom he was currently experiencing.

Tony spun his chair in a slow circle while he was thinking. He hadn’t irritated Coulson in a while. That could be fun. The Agent worked in the lower levels with a little group that sniffed out digital secrets and took over innocent ATM cameras to spy on anyone who caught their attention. Tony always enjoyed hacking inside their systems and making My Little Ponies run across the border of their computer screens. It wasn’t enough to make their work _impossible_ , just all kinds of infuriating until they figured out the codeword to turn them off. Honestly, it was like a training exercise, these were supposed to be the best of the best! How could they expect to do their jobs if children’s toys defeated them?

He was contemplating a new Pokemon based one - a dozen little Pikachu that sent off aggravated thunder shocks every time they got the code wrong - when his lab door opened. He perked up, lifting his head to look at who had arrived. 

He grinned and clapped his hands. “Floppy-mop!”

The young agent blinked suddenly owlish eyes. “Uh, what?”

Tony waved the other off, too busy focusing on the new, white cardboard box in his hands. He was torn between excitement and the dread that came with knowing who had sent it. He didn’t let the latter show though. “Another one for me? You shouldn’t have!”

Floppy-mop shuffled awkwardly on his feet. “It’s the same as the last one, no return address, no-”

“Yes, yes,” Tony waved him off while getting up; he didn’t wait for the other to react just got close enough to take the item. He ended up hitting himself in the chest with it, looking down with some confusion. The box itself was almost as big as a large laptop but it couldn’t have weighed more than a tissue box. “Is there anything _in_ this?”

The question was mostly rhetorical but the Agent answered anyway. “Tissue paper, based off our scans.”

Tony shook it; the faint rustling of the paper could be heard. “Did anyone open it? There was a damn good bottle of scotch in the last one.” He sent the Agent a suspicious look. “Did _you_ open it?”

The Agent managed to keep his face mostly calm. He still twitched a little, but Tony got the feeling he was a naturally nervy person. It probably didn’t help after being held hostage with a gun to his head in Washington. Tony gave him credit for coming back to work at all. “No, Mr Stark. The box is still sealed.” He pointed at the sides of the lid which were sticky-taped down and had no signs of fraying and re-sealing.

“Fine. Accepted.” He glared at the Agent. “Now shoo.”

The agent sighed the sigh everyone developed when spending too long in Tony’s company; it made Tony grin at the other. He waited until the door was closed before he let it slide off his face, having never quite reached his eyes. “J, lock down the lab.”

It took a moment before he heard the click that signalised the order being followed; he then turned on his heel and walked over to one of his clear work benches. He placed it down gingerly before grabbing one of the razor knives that he’d stolen from Barnes a few years ago and used it to cut through the tape. When it was finished he tossed down the razor before flipping off the lid. Floppy-mop hadn’t been wrong, it was filled with tissue paper but there was also another embossed card paper-clipped in the centre of the box. Tony narrowed his eyes at it suspiciously; it had _Anthony_ written on the front and was far more decorative than the last one.

Distrust wasn’t about to stop him from pulling it out and rolling his eyes at the raised tab at the bottom of the box that the paperclip had been affixed to so it wouldn’t move. _Diva_ , he thought with a scoff. He grimaced and almost crushed the card when he realised he was smiling slightly. He shook himself as well as anything resembling _fondness_ off and flipped the card over.

_I could not send it to you here._

It took Tony less than half a second. “Shit. JARVIS? A parcel hasn’t been delivered to my apartment, has it?”

“I would have informed you had a delivery occ-” JARVIS cut himself off and that was never a good thing.

“J?”

“A courier has just pulled up outside your building.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes and let loose a soft groan. “Of course it has.”

Shoving the card in his pocket and his phone and keys in the other, Tony called out to JARVIS. “Anyone asks I’m out buying caffeine.”

“Sir, this could be an attempt to lure you away from the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Well consider me lured,” Tony muttered, stopping in front of the doors that were still locked down. “JARVIS, open them!”

“I feel it important I stress the danger of going to a location where an unknown package is being delivered by an unpredictable criminal.”

Tony allowed the comment to sink in, allowed himself to think through all the possible ways it could go wrong, and how he could very likely be walking himself towards a bomb. “If he’s going to kill me,” Tony admitted to his A.I. softly, “he’s going to do it in person, slowly, painfully, and possibly after taking the time to try and sleep with me.” He tilted his head towards the ceiling. “He isn’t going to blow up or poison me. He’s,” Tony let out a chuckle edged with slight hysteria, “he’s kind of courting me. Shit. And I’m enjoying it. _Shit_. I am just as messed up as he is.”

“Sir,” JARVIS said softly, “may I suggest stopping this before it goes any further? The potential for disaster is reaching alarming levels.”

Tony grinned. “You worried for me, J?”

“Always, Sir,” his A.I. told him seriously, and it warmed Tony’s heart.

He smiled more genuinely. “I need to know, J, but I’ll be careful, alright? I just...” it was hard to admit, his voice coming out raw and revealing parts of himself that were far too broken. “I need this. I like talking to him. I like feeling a little bit more free. Everything’s rules and regulations and orders, J; I like talking to someone who doesn’t believe in those things. _I_ used to not believe in those things, I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

“He is still a criminal, Sir.”

Tony laughed. “Oh yeah, I know. I’m going in knowing you’ll be smart enough for both of us to pull the plug and drag me out when I get in too deep. I’m going to need it, because the more I go down this rabbit hole, the more I want to figure him out and catch him, prove that it doesn’t matter how much fun I’m having, and how much I like him when he’s not a murdering psychopath. I need to prove I’ll always come back, that I’m different than him, that I’m _more_ than just some guy in his fucking lab pulling out breakthroughs and never seeing the world ‘cause I’m too busy ripping apart the bad bits of it and trying to bandaid the _good_ ones.” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Look, just. He beats me, and I _like_ that. It’s fucked up, but I do. He’s brilliant, and the more we talk, the more similar we become. I need to get in his head, J, and hope that when I finish, I can get him out of mine. And I,” he swallowed and confessed the final thing, “I like that he knows it’s me, that he knows _I’m_ the guy catching people, not Fury, not Rogers, not Carter or even fucking _Bruce_. They get all this credit and I,” Tony clenched his fist and his teeth; “I like being valued.”

_I like the gifts, I like the flirting, I like the praise. I like that he’s on the other side because he can respect me better than anybody else can. He’s my enemy, and he fucking knows I could beat him, and he adores me for it - and that means a lot more to me than I ever thought I needed._

The lab felt heavy with the silence that followed, and Tony felt shaken and regretted ever opening his mouth. It was a terrible, damning confession, and he was lucky it was only to JARVIS who always had his back, was _programmed_ to. He wouldn’t break his coding unless he felt Tony was a risk to his own health, which, yes, he was probably dancing close to that already, but not enough that JARVIS would stop him. Yet.

“I’m fucked up, buddy,” Tony told him softly, but with a barely audible hitch to his voice. He was internally terrified that JARVIS would still abandon or think less of him. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised?”

“No, Sir,” the warmth and comfort to JARVIS voice nearly made Tony slump against the door. “You have always been unfathomably strange.”

Tony let out a brittle laugh. “Not what I said, J.”

“I believe it is the more accurate of the two.”

Tony was torn between wanting to cry and to hug JARVIS’ motherboard in lieu of anything else to squeeze with affection. “Send yourself a gif, J: a couple of idiots hugging each other to bits.”

“Thank you, Sir,” JARVIS sounded touched and maybe a little emotional and that was all Tony could take.

“Come on, open the doors, J. I got a parcel to pick up.”

The other’s “yes Sir” was lost underneath the sound of the door moving and the distance Tony quickly covered while striding towards the elevator. Tony was good at many things, and one of them was denial.

He made a very careful point of locking up everything he’d told JARVIS and putting it in a box he wouldn’t open or acknowledge ever again. No one could ever know how much he connected with and liked the criminal, and above all else, it could never get back to Loki himself.

* * *

Tony had wanted to speed to his apartment, maybe catch the courier and try and interrogate him, but common sense eventually - annoyingly - prevailed. He couldn’t afford to get caught speeding, for one thing, but more importantly than that, the courier would be long gone by the time he arrived and was unlikely to know anything anyway. He would have had more luck finding the person who handed the box _to_ the courier, and even then, Loki was smart enough to not let anyone know anything that was important enough Tony would want it.

Truthfully, Tony could have waited until he finished for the day to go and find the parcel - but why wait? He didn’t keep a normal work-schedule anyway; it was all about when the mood struck him or when the criminals struck _them_. Fury wouldn’t even blink if he disappeared for an hour on a slow week. He’d probably earned it after ‘discovering’ everything he had about Hydra. He almost snorted. Discover. Right. Just what would he _discover_ next? The question had never truly left his thoughts since he’d received the card; just _what_ had Loki sent him that couldn’t go through S.H.I.E.L.D? It opened the door to a million and one possibilities, and Tony couldn’t even begin to try and narrow it down to a top fifty.

Why was he being sent something else too? That was another issue. They had stopped talking since Loki’s little slip of unacknowledged but utterly _obvious_ jealousy. So why give Tony something at all? In apology? Tony scoffed at the idea. Loki wasn’t the kind of person likely to do _guilt_. So maybe it was just a case of recognising that overstepping had forced new distance between them? It would make sense for Loki to back off, regroup, and then try to lure his way back into Tony’s good graces another way.

Not that he had good graces for a criminal, exactly, but whatever their weird little situation was and whatever plans Loki had formulated for instigating them, Loki had made an error and he was trying to undo it. Tony could understand _that_.

It made Tony loosen up a little, happy with his assessment. It was a good thing too as he’d turned onto his street and wasn’t about to give Loki and his little watchers the satisfaction of seeing him sit in his car _thinking_. No, he was going to walk in there confident and expectant about what was waiting for him.

Getting out of and locking his car, Tony forced out a chipper tune and made his way inside. He went straight to his mailbox, expecting he’d need to open it, find a slip and take it to the nearest post office; he wasn’t remotely prepared for there to be an embossed card sticking out of the box. His step and his hum faltered, but he made himself keep going. He didn’t pick up the tune again; he let it fade to nothing as he reached out and tugged the card free.

 _I trust very few, but I trust your curiosity_. He turned it over. _It will be at your door._

Tony itched to pull out his phone and email Loki with the request to _stop leaving him fucking breadcrumb business cards_ , but he wasn’t about to inspire Loki to come searching for another face-to-face meeting. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to see what either of them would do. He shoved the note in his pocket and headed into the elevator. He found himself tapping his foot as he ascended and quickly squashed the impulse. Calm and in control, that’s what he was going for; not nervous or eager or a little bit flattered about the time and effort gone into the gifts. 

_International Criminal_ , Tony told himself strongly, _you’re not allowed to be charmed_. 

Tony lived on the fourth floor of a fairly modern complex in a decent area with relatively competent security - although, not good enough to keep someone like _Loki_ out. When people asked about how he could afford the price, he told them he’d got a good deal and carefully left out the fact that Pepper had found the place.

She’d made sure to fit the apartment to Howard’s specifications on what constituted as an ‘acceptable’ home for his son. He wasn’t entirely sure Howard didn’t pay some of his rent too. Tony had made a big fuss about being annoyed at his father trying to control him and refusing to let him make his own way, but he was secretly warmed at the fussing. Howard probably knew it too; after all, Tony had still accepted and moved into the place he’d been presented. He still smiled at Howard’s idea of a house warming gift too. How he thought a welding torch, two tablets with hologram capability, and a small arsenal of items that would give an Engineering student a wet dream was going to help him ‘lay low,’ he didn’t know. He’d only kept one of the tablets and the rest he’d shipped back to his Father and stored in the room he kept at Stark Manor for when he was visiting. He did use them when he was there, hell, he’d even designed a few things _with_ his father - something he’d never imagined would ever happen when he was a kid. It was nice, _fun_ even. Still a little hard to handle too much at a time, but Howard was trying, and Tony was willing to do the same. He even sent Howard designs he came up with on occasion and always got a little kick when he saw them get produced by S.I. under his name. Made the tabloids go crazy trying to get a look at the mystery genius and reclusive son of Howard Stark. It was too bad they were looking in the completely wrong place. 

The sound of the elevator made him break from his thoughts and focus back on the present, on the _parcel_. His apartment wasn’t directly opposite the doors; it was further down the hall, but Tony easily zeroed in on the gift. It sat propped up against his door and was smaller than the others he’d received. It was also black and about the size of an average book but thicker - looking about three inches high with a green ribbon tied around it. Tony had to bend to pick it up and found that it wasn’t as light as the one earlier, but it still made him wonder just _what_ was inside that couldn’t be seen by S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Eyeing it, he opened his apartment and slipped inside, scanning the room quickly while asking, “J?” 

“No unauthorised entry detected.” 

“Good enough for me.” Tossing his keys on the nearby bench, he raised the parcel to eyelevel. 

“I do not have the facilities to scan this package, Sir. May I suggest taking it back to S.H.I.E.L.D?” 

“Hmm,” Tony carefully shifted it from side to side, hearing something lightly clunk against cardboard as he did. “I think I’ll take this one on faith.” 

“I must protest, Sir,” JARVIS interjected, but he already sounded weary with the knowledge he was about to be ignored. 

It probably would be the perfect time to kill him, Tony could acknowledge that much; alone in his apartment and being sent something S.H.I.E.L.D couldn’t see after having his guard whittled down by amusing emails. It really would have been the ideal end game. The problem was that Tony didn’t buy it for a second. Loki wasn’t through with him yet, and Loki had said it himself - Tony was no use to him dead. 

Taking the edge of one strand of ribbon, Tony gently pulled it until the bow came undone. When it was removed, he dropped it to the floor before flicking off the lid which landed with the rest. This time, the tissue paper covered the whole gift, and Tony had to move it around with his fingers until he found the object inside. He was honestly surprised when he pulled out what looked like a black swiss army knife but with gold inlay. He was even more dumbfounded when he observed it more carefully and found out he was _right_. Granted, it was missing almost all of its implements; he seemed to have only received the casing. 

Walking over to his kitchen bench, Tony dropped the box on it and shoved it to the side as he went about opening all the attachments. The typical knife was there, and it was exceedingly sharp; there was also a serrated blade as well, but while everything else had the _potential_ for weapons, screwdrivers or otherwise useful implements, they were empty. He forced his attention to the handle, it shined in the light, and Tony had a very suspicious feeling the gold inlay might actually be real, but he didn’t feel like checking just yet. 

Putting down the pocketknife, he moved back to the box, pulling out the tissue paper and searching for a card. He wasn’t disappointed, but unlike all the previous ones _this_ card wasn’t stamped with words, in its place was the elegant scrawl Tony has visualised since the first gift. Loki had taken the risk of writing this one. 

_For a weaponsmith of the past_ , it said, and Tony actually laughed aloud. “Asshole,” he muttered. Trust the guy to allude to what had almost been his occupation in a way that could just as easily have been a comment on knives being dropped in favour of firearms. Subtle. Flicking it over to check for another message, he found. _Do protect yourself, Anthony. How you do so is your choice alone._

Tony huffed instead of acknowledging the way he felt mildly shaken. “Sneaky little shit.” 

_Symbolic little fucking shit._

He’d given him a knife, given him _protection_ all while giving him the freedom of choosing _what_ he put inside the weapon. All while telling him he could choose _who_ he slept with as long as he remembered people out there could kill him. _Jesus **fuck**_. Tony ran a hand across his face, putting the card back on the counter and moving to lean against the nearest wall. He didn’t know why it cut so close, why his body felt like it wanted to shake to pieces. It was just a fucking _knife_. 

_But it’s not, and you know it._

Tony gritted his teeth. “JARVIS, tell me I’m way off fucking base, and he hasn’t just given me a really big apology and a really,” _thoughtful; because how many other people would know you’re already itching to design your own weapon?_ “odd and vaguely threatening gift?” 

“You are rarely wrong in your deductions, Sir.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he scowled at the ceiling, “and thanks a lot for the comfort there, J.” The silence that followed his words was very pointed, and Tony sighed. “Okay, so I like the fucking gift. So fucking what? He has good taste and a really good idea about what I’d like and how to say sorry without pissing me off. It doesn’t mean I _like_ him or anything.” 

“With all due respect, Sir,” JARVIS told him, “I believe it is a little too late to gain passage on that particular ship.” 

Tony barked an incredulous laugh. “Did you just tell me not to take a ride on the Nile?” 

“I believe, Sir, that with a man like Mr Laufeyson, it would be best to know all manner of thoughts you hold regarding him.” 

“Because he’ll figure them out?” 

“It would be in your best interest not to allow him.” 

“So acknowledgement and deep burial,” Tony nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Perhaps a lack of encouragement would be beneficial as well,” JARVIS suggested. 

Tony’s eyes slipped to look at the apology littering his counter. “Don’t think I’m able to do that, J.” 

_I’m in too deep_. Pushing away from the wall, Tony pulled out his phone and pulled up _Sender Unknown_. There were no new responses, and he wasn’t surprised; the ball was in his court. Loki wasn’t going to move until he batted back, until he told Loki what he thought of the knife. Picking it up again, Tony turned it in his palm. It was beautiful craftsmanship. Tony was going to _adore_ wrecking, rebuilding, and making it his own. 

_This is pretty impressive; maybe we should break up more often? I like the making up presents._

“Sir!” JARVIS sounded almost strangled. “Should you not consider being somewhat _less_ enthusiastic?” 

Tony sighed overdramatically. “Party-pooper.” 

Deleting what he’d previously typed he changed it to something less implicating to a criminal who, for all intents and purposes had, if not a crush, than at least some serious physical interest in him. _I didn’t know I needed a lethal weapon, but I suppose you’d be the better person to decide that?_ He hesitated slightly but something was nagging at him until he added. _I like it. I’m going to rip it to pieces until I’m happier, but you probably already knew that._ And then, before he could think better of it. _Thanks, I guess_. He cleared his throat even though it hadn’t been sent yet. _Surprised it wasn’t green though._

He didn’t let himself hesitate before hitting the send button. Putting down his phone, he made himself go to the kitchen and make a coffee. The least he could do was keep his lies to S.H.I.E.L.D to a minimum; he’d said he’d gone for caffeine, now he’d done that. His phone went off halfway through the percolating but he made himself ignore it until he could take the full cup to the couch and sit down. He felt like he might need it. 

_You do not need to thank me_ , Loki began, _but I’m pleased the gift was to your liking. As for the colour, it would hardly be subtle to use something of a signature of mine, would it? Come now, Anthony, we both know that the revelation of this communication would not reflect well on either of us._

Tony couldn’t stop the images that flooded through his mind of S.H.I.E.L.D finding out, hell of _Barnes_. Well, Barnes probably wouldn’t be surprised. He be pissed though and he'd lock him in a room with no technology until he came to his senses. Fury might start yelling things like ‘compromised’ and really, it would be a fucking _mess_. 

Loki’s comment had given him the opening to ask a question that had been spinning around his head in his more sensible moments. _So why continue it?_

There was a long pause before Loki replied. _I could only speak for myself and that would not be enough. The question is, Anthony, would **you** prefer that it stops?_

It was an honest offer. Tony realised it with some shock and not just a hint of panic. He could try and avoid the question and Loki might let him, but every time he didn’t answer but kept conversing, it said it all for him. _Too late to gain passage on that ship,_ JARVIS had told him. The least he could do was own up to it. A little. 

_I should._

_Ah_ , Loki replied, _but you will not?_

_Not yet._

_Well_ , Loki sent him and Tony could just picture the grin on his face. _I had best keep you interested, hadn’t I?_

_Won’t be too hard to do that_ , Tony thought but didn’t tell him. He’d already been far too honest with Loki for one week. He chose the much more guarded reply of: _We’ll see_. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, next chapter!! For everyone who guessed something like this was going to happen sometime soon, bravo ;)
> 
> Probably should worn there is some **violence** in this chapter. It's not particularly graphic or intense so I'm not going to tag too much for it, but just a heads up.

Tony really hated to admit it, but he was in love with the pocketknife.

He’d spent a couple of weeks perfecting it, and it only took that long because some asshole had decided to kill an entire family except for the daughter. They’d had to race against the clock, but they eventually found the young twenty-year-old who had reverted to her first language and kept crying for her brother. It hit Rogers hard, and he’d spent a lot of time trying to talk with the woman.

Tony hadn’t dealt too much with the case - just the evidence at the crime scene - of which there wasn’t much. The case had only felt more time-consuming than it actually was because of the way Rogers had been alternating stomping around S.H.I.E.L.D and hovering in Tony’s lab. He was hoping for a direction to run in, and during the time where they couldn’t find the daughter, Tony had bit his tongue and let him for the most part. Tony didn’t like kidnapping cases one bit and understood the urge to do _something_ , but now that the woman was safe in their protection, it became their focus to catch the murderer.

It wasn’t shaping up too well.

Still, it was early days, and criminals tended to slip up. It was only a matter of time.

Twirling the knife in his hand - it had only taken the better part of an hour to figure out without dropping the thing - he flipped open the blade and began prying open the motherboard of a computer. He had other cases to check up on while the search was continuing for the killer of the Maximoffs. He had just managed to lift off what he needed and was changing to a screwdriver when a voice asked right by his ear, “Since when do you have knives?”

“Jesus _Christ_ , Barnes!” Tony yelped, startling in his seat and only managing to not collide or flail an arm into the agent because of Barnes' inhuman reflexes. He glared over his shoulder at the grinning man. “I could have fucking _stabbed myself_.”

“I waited until you’d let go,” Barnes rebutted before nodding at the blade. “It’s not your usual style.”

Tony was glad the Agent was looking at the utensil and not his face or he was fairly sure the flicker of fear would have been not only obvious but would have started the procedure for curtains closing. “I take offense, _grave_ offense,” he told the other, “I made this myself, I’ll have you know.”

Barnes held out a hand, and Tony had to resist the urge to pull it close to his chest and refuse to let the other touch it. The whole thing was ridiculous and only more likely to increase Barnes' curiosity. He forced himself to hand it over with as little reluctance showing as possible. Barnes flipped the item casually in his hand, and it brought back memories of watching grainy footage of Barnes fighting. He was a crack shot with his guns, but he was terrifying and majestic with a blade. Tony made a point not to let that disconcertion show. “It only took me a fucking hour to learn how to do that.”

The Agent just grinned as he began prying open all the attachments. “Comes with the training.” He raised his eyebrows at some of the more obscure things Tony had placed on there. One of them was a skeleton key to almost all of S.H.I.E.L.D’s handcuffs, and Barnes gave him a dry look when he figured it out. “And the odds of you having this on hand if someone cuffs you?”

Tony shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”

It took Barnes all of a minute to open everything, close it, and then spin it around his hands and fingers like it was a lucky coin. “Alright, alright,” Tony snapped reaching out to snatch it and watching Barnes grin as he let him. “Are you done?”

Barnes shrugged. “Not like you to have weapons.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is _not_ a weapon. It’s a very useful scientific instrument.”

“It has a blade that’s powerful and well-made enough to stab someone in the heart if you got close enough.”

Tony blinked rapidly. “Erm.”

“And the serrated edge could get you out of almost any binding, but it’s also very good for cutting out the tendons in the back of a knee.”

“Okay, it is distinctly disturbing that you know that.”

Barnes gave him a bland look. “It’s my job to know that.” His lips thinned slightly. “I’m not going to ask about who helped you with that, I have a fair idea-” Tony went to protest, but Barnes held up a hand and sent him a warning glare. Tony mulishly obeyed. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see it, _for now_ , but we’re going to talk about this, in depth, and with you being a bit more fucking honest with me over how much you’ve been talking to him.”

“It’s not-” Tony cut himself off, let out a frustrated breath and admitted, “okay maybe it is, _a little_ ,” Tony held his thumb and index finger close together, “but I got this. Come on, Barnes, you know me!”

“I know you get in over your head without registering the depth of the water.”

Tony thrust the closed pocketknife between them, laying it flat on his palm. “It’s just a _knife_.”

“For now, but what’s next, Stark? This isn’t a game. This isn’t you mucking around with some guy I don’t like. This is a-” he stopped himself, a scowl twisting his features before he changed what he was going to say, “this is a lot more dangerous than that.”

Clenching the knife, Tony let out a hissed breath. “I know that, okay? I fucking _know_.”

“Do you?” Barnes demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re being so fucking idiotic I don’t even know what to do with you.”

Tony pouted, trying not to let it show how much the words actually hurt. Barnes was probably his closest friend at the moment and to hear disappointment buried in his response stung more than he’d expected. “Bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Barnes pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re my friend and you’re doing the equivalent of skipping off a cliff because something sparkly caught your eye. I am going to be as harsh as I need to be to keep you from plunging over the fucking side.”

“Awwh,” Tony cooed, but couldn’t stop the warmth from bubbling up around his heart. “Is the big bad Special Agent going all soft and squishy inside?”

Barnes glared at him. “I could kill you with a paperclip.”

“But you don’t want to.” Tony held out his arms and stood up. “Come on, group hug!”

“You can’t make a group with two-” Barnes' grumbled remark was stopped when Tony stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the stiffening agent. He sniggered into the other’s chest, knowing half of it was an act to keep up his reputation, and the other half was the fact Barnes truly didn’t touch people very often and it took him a while to accept it. Tony felt a sigh ruffle his hair before Barnes hugged him back. “Please don’t get yourself killed,” Barnes told him quietly but with a hint of genuine plea. “I can’t clean that up.”

Tony felt something uncomfortably like a lump form in his throat, and he squeezed Barnes tighter. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice a little rougher. “I swear I fucking won’t, Bucky.” The name slipped out, the first time he’d ever said it, and he felt the tiniest twitch of Barnes startling. “I’m not going to make you do that. I promise.”

Arms that could snap him like a twig pulled him even closer, and Barnes buried his head in Tony’s hair and whispered. “I’ll murder any fucking person who hurts you. I’ll hunt them down like the worst fucking vermin and obliterate them. I wasn’t always good, Stark. I don’t have to stay that way either.”

 _What is it with me and my tendency to attract violent individuals?_ The thought passed through his head and almost made him laugh. He didn’t let it, but it was food for thought.

“Yeah, you do,” Tony told him softly pulling back enough to look at eyes that were a little too dark and dead but Tony just kept smiling in the wake of them. “You’ve got someone.” Tony scrunched his nose. “Bit of an annoying asshole, but there’s no accounting for taste.” Barnes punched him, scowling, but the light was trickling back in. “That person?” Because it was wise not to name names or give out genders in a place like S.H.I.E.L.D. and in a career like theirs. “They’re worth staying good for.”

“You’re worth avenging,” Barnes told him vehemently, and Tony had to shove him away, making it come off mocking so it wouldn’t have him doing something ridiculous like burrow into Barnes and confess all his deepest darkest sins. Barnes was his best friend, right up there with Rhodey - maybe even surpassing him right about now - but there were still limits.

“Is this the part where we buy each other friendship bracelets and talk about boys?”

Barnes tilted his head, all his emotions bottled back up but still visible behind his eyes. “Don’t we already do that?”

Tony shook his wrist. “I don’t see a bracelet, do you?”

He didn’t get a chance to react before Barnes had moved. Tony only got out a small, pathetic squeak before he was suddenly cuffed. To Barnes. Who was smirking. Tony looked down at the handcuff before up at the other’s face. “I have a key for this, you know.”

Barnes shrugged. “So do I. Doesn’t mean either of us will use it.”

He opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut abruptly when his mind managed to twig. _Oh_. A friendship they both chose to hold onto even though they both had escape routes, just, _oh_. “It’s going to get really boring spending the afternoon in my lab.”

Barnes just stretched, making Tony glare when he deliberately made Tony stumble with the pull of the metal. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to annoy you.”

“I bet you’ll crack first,” Tony challenged and received a wide and dangerous smirk in reply.

Oh yes, the battle was on.

* * *

They managed a good few hours of unproductive work tied to each other and laughing every five minutes as they tried to make the other break. It ended up being called a draw when Agent Carter came in looking for Barnes and more or less verbally flayed them before slapping them both upside the head and setting them loose.

Agent Carter couldn’t take out her irritation on Tony (she also didn’t know he had a key) but she did tell Barnes that Odinson needed a sparring partner. Tony wasn’t sure whether Barnes looked more interested in the challenge or more unimpressed about the prospect of being pinned by a sweaty Interpol agent. Tony still wished him luck.

He didn’t get a chance to check on who was the winner as a case involving murder by OD came in, and Tony was up to his eyeballs in suspects while trying to locate who sold the tampered narcotic. He ended up going home with a bad headache after sending the narrowed down list of three suppliers to Rogers. It was up to the investigators to get more evidence; there was nothing else he could do with what he had.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he was glad to get back to his apartment. He unlocked and pushed open the door and went to ask for JARVIS, but he stopped a few feet into the room when he spotted a figure in the corner, looking at his DVD collection. The man was tall, broad, and dressed in a suit of dark greys.

“What an interesting array of material you have,” the man said, his voice coming out distorted, “not to be expected of the broken genius Anthony Stark.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony asked while internally kicking himself for not making that panic button when he’d had the chance.

The man turned slowly and Tony knew his face did something unpleasant at the sight. The man was wearing a mask - or what could loosely be called a mask - Tony was going more for gross, misshapen, bad horror movie robot. The man raised his hands to spread them out either side of him. He was wearing gloves of a similar colour to his mask, and that was really fucking annoying because Tony preferred when criminals didn’t cover their fingerprints. “I am Ultron.”

Tony had no self-preservation and let his derision show. “What the fuck is an Ultron?”

The man just smiled, and Tony was actually mildly impressed with the flexibility of material to make that recognizable, but before he could ask more, he felt a prick in his neck. He swore and a hand flew up to where - what he could now feel was a dart - had landed. His vision started to go blurry, and he began to sway.

“What a pleasure it is,” he heard the man say, “to know I will be the one to watch and make you die.”

Tony tried to form words, to shout a code that he hoped JARVIS would hear when he rebooted. Wanted to know _how this fucker got at JARVIS_ , but whatever was in that injection was fast acting and far too strong. He didn’t even feel himself hit the floor as unconsciousness took him.

* * *

When Tony woke up, he felt hungover. His head was pounding, and he was vaguely nauseous. He went to try and press a palm to his temple in order to keep his brain from exploding out the side but found the movement was very abruptly halted by a force around his wrist. His first thought, groggy and uncoordinated was ‘ _am I stuck to Barnes again?_ ’ but his brain was quick to kick into gear when he forced his eyes open.

He was lying in a position that had mostly deadened his left arm, and his head was barely touching the dust and grime-covered ground. He was kind of grateful for that. Pushing himself up was an interesting task, and in the end, he only managed an odd crouch on his knees with his ankles crossed behind him as he surveyed the room.

It was dim, which his retinas were thankful for, but the rest of him was _not_ pleased at the idea he was handcuffed to a wall in an old and deserted brick building. Tony didn’t even know where there were places like that in the city. Hell, he was going to _hope_ there were some because if he was out of the state he was going to be in serious trouble. He kept looking for something familiar.

The immediate area seemed to be empty so Tony craned his neck to look behind at what he had to contend with. He found the cuffs were hooked around a ring which was affixed to a metal spike that had been hammered into the wall. Tony didn’t like the level of simplicity. He much preferred cuffs from eBay that could crack under the right pressure and faced with the right engineer. He still tried to pull and snap the metal; he leant all his weight away from the wall but only ended up with the cuffs cutting into his wrists. They were practically manacles - a good three inches wide and they barely left any space between his skin and the metal.

Hissing, Tony let himself relax and take some of the pressure off his arms. He shuffled, trying to find a comfortable position while giving the room a more thorough look over. It was about the size of his apartment and was empty of everything except a table that was covered in implements that Tony was shying away from looking too closely at. There were a couple of small windows towards the roof, and Tony wondered if that made it more likely to be an abandoned factory.

That put it in good likelihood of being on the outskirts of a town. Damn.

He tried to keep his mind from going back to the fucking _table_ he was very pointedly positioned to see and instead tried to calculate escape routes. He also tired to assure himself that they wouldn’t be needed because any second now, Barnes would be busting down the door with a scowl and the air of an avenging angel. Tony would mock him, of course, while internally shuddering with relief and letting Barnes make Bond and Bond Girl jokes because he was breaking the handcuffs with his Super Special Agent skills.

Tony needed to keep imagining that scenario in order to stop the slowly creeping panic from taking over and rendering him useless.

_What a pleasure it is to know I will be the one to watch and make you die._

Tony was really, really hoping it was going to be death by being left to rot. The table was just meant to scare him. Barnes would find him or Tony would break the cuffs himself. Whoever this fucking asshole was, they would _pay_ for kidnapping Tony Stark. Tony might not be able to break every bone in a person’s body without an emotion on his face, but he could damn well make sure Barnes got away with it without anyone suspecting him.

Especially if Tony had to deal with any part of the stuff on that _table_ that he couldn’t stop flicking his eyes to. The fucking poker and the syringe were just two of the many things that were there and scaring the fuck out of him.

Fiddling with the manacles, Tony was still trying to see if there was a fault, the smallest manufacturing error he could extort. He was visualising the item as if it was on his lab’s workbench, barely seeing his surroundings for what was going on behind him. He was still considering options when he heard the only door in the room open, and he froze. His eyes went to the figure stepping inside.

“Ah,” it was the crazy masked man again, “awake at last, Mr Stark.”

“Oh? Did I keep you?” Tony automatically riposted, a snap in his voice and snarl on his face “I always tell people not to _stab me in the neck with a dart_. It messes with my ability to keep a schedule.”

The man, _Ultron_ , if he was to be believed, chuckled. “Defiant even to the last. I wonder, would you like to make a bet on when you will break?”

“You might have missed some things doing time as a rejected Hollywood prop,” Tony answered, throwing the insult out in an attempt to gain a reaction; it failed, “but I don’t cheat people out of their money.”

Ultron looked away from where he had been carefully surveying the table. He tilted his head, and Tony felt like he was being examined as a child did a bug it had caught; curiously and with amusement.

“You have such faith you would be the victor?” Tony didn’t verbally answer, just sent him a smile that was equal parts cocky, daring, and a stubborn spine of iron. Ultron turned back to the desk and picked up something that looked uncomfortably like a truncheon. He took carefully measured steps over to Tony until he was standing above him, forcing Tony to tilt his head up. The look in his eyes made Tony’s blood run cold. The well-mannered man was only a thin veneer keeping the utter insanity and _rage_ behind his eyes at bay. “Let’s see who will be stronger.” Ultron bent down. “Your pride or my hate.”

“Why do you ha-” Tony’s words were cut off as Ultron swung down the weapon and slammed it into Tony’s shoulder. He managed to stifle most of the cry as he was pushed back with the force, colliding with the wall and panting at the rush of pain and adrenaline. He was still leaning against the brick as he focused back on the masked face. He was completely blank except for the twisted fury showing in the red of whatever contacts or tattoos the man had. Another hit from the truncheon went across his cheekbone, and there must have been sharp edges, possibly deliberate, because he felt it break skin as blood trickled down from the cut. The hit was lighter on his cheek too, as if he was trying not to hurt him too badly, yet.

Tony was half expecting another strike, but the item was dropped. “I have an applicator.” Ultron mused, “I think seeing the chemicals I have prepared interacting with the skin of your face- yes, that would be a fitting experience for a _scientist_.”

It wasn’t the contempt in the word that told Tony he would die, it wasn’t even the knowledge he was about to have some form of acid dropped painstakingly slowly on his face. It was the lack of time, the absence of care. This man hated him for some reason and wasn’t about to let Barnes or anyone else investigate their way to him. Ultron _knew_ he’d have people looking for him, so he’d planned to take his pound of flesh and enjoy every horrifying second of it until Tony _was_ broken, _was_ cracked, and then once he’d had his fill, Ultron would kill him.

There wasn’t a fucking thing Tony could do. His pocketknife wasn’t on him, and like Barnes had said, it would have been nowhere near close enough to be useful against the manacles even if it was. Ultron wasn’t going to let him escape and the more he struggled the more joy Ultron would gain. But what could he do, just _sit_ there? Fuck no. He had to do something - _anything_ \- whatever he could before the crazy fucking robot-masked man came back and started picking up the torture game again.

“But should I start with the face?” Ultron continued. “I would hate for you to lose consciousness. You can hardly discover your faults if you’re unable to hear me list them.”

“Faults?” Tony spat not only verbally but at the man’s feet for good measure. Ultron’s eyes narrowed, and he looked down at where the spittle had dirtied the shine of his shoes. “I think the only fault I have is being _better_ than you. That’s it, isn’t it? I can see it from a fucking mile away. All the ‘woe is me, I wouldn’t exist without the skills of my betters lighting the way’. Well, if you think trying to make yourself feel better by hurting me because you can’t succeed or marring my face because yours is butt-fucking-ugly well-”

Tony’s speech was cut off when Ultron’s hand circled his neck, gripping it tightly, and pushing him back against the wall. He grimaced at the pain that flared around his wrists from the position, but the hold on his throat wasn’t enough to cut off his air supply. Ultron was almost bending over him, his metal sneer inches from Tony’s face. “I will always be better than you.”

Forcing an arrogant smirk he didn’t really feel, Tony told him, “Buddy, you’re trying way too fucking hard.”

The hand let go of him, but Tony didn’t have time to be relieved as the baton Ultron had used before was picked up and brought down against his ribs. Tony couldn’t stop his hoarse shout of pain in time. He only just managed to bite down on his lip and stop any further noise as the harsh crack was now sending agony all across his side. He gasped a breath only to wish he’d taken more care; if it hadn’t at least cracked a rib, he’d be fucking shocked.

“The world will know how truly useless you are,” Ultron told him. “I will make them see. Once the pieces I leave of your body are found, I will then expose you. Your identity, your dealings, and your disgusting nature.”

“What the _hell_ have I ever done to piss you off, huh?” Tony gasped out. _Besides the obvious insults_. God, but his body was _throbbing_. How did Barnes stand some of the injuries he’d sustained and still keep- Tony’s thoughts faltered as the memory surfaced through the pain. 

Barnes had gotten drunk one night after a terrible mission that had left him worse for wear and trying to avoid Rogers. He’d been explaining one of the missions he’d had with Romanoff where he’d needed to break himself free of bindings and had dislocated his shoulder.

Tony had been fascinated and demanded to know how he’d done it. What it resulted in was a very painful next morning and a significant amount of bruises on them both that Barnes hadn’t remembered the cause of after his hangover. Tony had teased him for days and never admitted the truth, much to Barnes' frustration. The upside to that painful evening was he’d learnt how to pop his shoulder free and then back in as well as the basics for breaking his wrist if he was really desperate. He didn’t think he was _that_ frantic yet, but then again: _acid_.

_This was going to hurt._

Ultron was still pontificating about Tony’s imminent demise and defective character traits while making a showy attempt to pick his literal poison. Tony took a few steadying breaths knowing he’d only get one shot at it. He wished he had a hand free as it was easier to use pressure against a wall to pop it, but Barnes had been nothing if not pessimistic and preferred to show him how to do a Houdini. _If you’re in a straight jacket, where the fuck is the likelihood you have a wall?_ Right. Tony took in one more breath and let it out while twisting and straining his right shoulder before he heard the sickening _pop_ of dislocation. Tony gritted his teeth against the pain and forced his mind to shove it as well as the ache in his ribs and face to the side. He could deal with that later as long as he _lived_.

He was carefully and quietly attempting to manoeuvre his wrist out off the cuffs, but he stilled when he heard a very disturbing chuckling that made his heart drop to his feet. Tony slowly raised his head to find Ultron standing with his back to the table, a vial of something in one hand and the - no longer empty - syringe he’d seen earlier in the other.

“Interesting but ultimately useless,” Ultron told him. “Time is not on your side, Mr Stark. When I begin with true intent on your disfigurement and death, your mind will be lost to anything but the suffering I will be giving you.” _I’m fucked_. Tony thought watching the vial more than the man as Ultron stepped closer. “What a beautiful corpse you will ma-”

There was the tiniest muffled sound that Tony barely registered, but it stopped Ultron in his tracks. Tony saw the glass vial fall to the floor and shatter before Ultron dropped to the ground with a heavy thump. Tony stared for a long moment, watching a small bit of red form on the floor to the left of his mask’s temple. _He’s been shot_ , Tony thought. _Oh fuck_ , the acid was bubbling and looked like it was destroying part of the floor. _I could kiss the man who owns that bullet._

Tony was so busy staring at Ultron’s body with shocked relief that he almost didn’t hear the footsteps. Thankfully, his survival instincts were still running the show and informing him that _no one in S.H.I.E.L.D would do that_. Okay, Barnes might, _maybe_ , but Tony didn’t like his chances. He tore his eyes to the door, seeing black knee-high boots before jerking upwards.

“ _ **Loki?!**_ ” 

Tony’s voice came out strangled as he stared at the criminal with his jaw dropped and with saucer-shaped eyes.

It was undoubtedly the gift-giving, sarcastic and incredibly intelligent _Sender Unknown_ he’d been conversing with who was every inch the _criminal_ part of his personality at the moment. He had a gun in his hand with a silencer attached and his usual three-piece suit had been exchanged for combat boots, leather pants, a black shirt, and a black _flaring_ jacket that stopped below his knees. He looked like the fucking Matrix with his hair windswept and sticking to his sweaty face - there were even spots of blood on his porcelain skin. Blood that Tony didn’t believe was Loki’s.

 _Blood splatter. Shot at close range. Lackeys. Didn’t have a fucking chance._ No, Tony knew that wasn’t his.

“Anthony,” Loki said calmly, walking into the room with the gun lightly tapping his leg. He didn’t even deem to look at Ultron as if the carcass on the floor was so much nothing. “I apologise for the delay in my arrival.” Tony blinked, staring up at the other as Loki crouched beside him, putting the gun on the ground but still within easy reach. His eyes darted over Tony, his mouth growing thinner by the second. When he spotted the truncheon near Tony’s feet, his eyes flared with the kind of rage that probably got Loki the title _homicidal maniac_. It was pushed down to a low-level simmer when he caught Tony’s gaze. “Your shoulder,” he nodded at it. “Will you need assistance putting it back in?”

“I’d like out of the cuffs first,” Tony blurted, glad something could come out of his scrambled mind. What was Loki _doing_ here?

“Of course,” Loki shifted slightly from the crouched position he’d taken to be able to speak face-to-face with Tony. He used the new flexibility of his legs to lean over Tony’s shoulder to look at the manacles. Tony felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as he felt those calm breaths on his skin. _His_ heart was beating a hundred-miles an hour and he didn’t know how Loki’s wasn’t. _Criminal! Day job! This is his fucking life!_ His mind screamed at him, and while that probably should have scared the crap out of him, he could still see Ultron lying dead on the floor with the acid that had been minutes from destroying his face.

“Why are you here?” Tony whispered, unable to keep the question contained. Loki stopped moving. He kept up the steady rhythm of his breaths, but the tiniest brush of fabric that came from the natural relaxation of his muscles as they adjusted while he moved - it all disappeared. Tony swallowed. “Not that I’m not grateful,” he began to babble, “I am really, really fucking grateful. Did I mention that? Because, seriously. Words cannot express how grateful I am to not have acid on my fucking face right now. Like-”

“I’m here,” Loki spoke, making Tony snap his mouth shut, “because I promised no harm would come to you. I am here to fix the misconception that my words were merely something to be disregarded.” Loki pulled back, and his eyes burned like a forest fire. “I have no intention of letting you die, Anthony. Make no mistake that anyone who tries to harm you will share the same fate as the one in this room.”

“You’ll kill them,” Anthony murmured.

“Had he not been so close and able to harm you further; that would have been the least of the things I would have done to him and will do to any others who attempt it.”

Tony swallowed and had to look away from Loki’s far too green and far too serious eyes. He might have thought about letting Barnes torture Ultron earlier, and while a part of him still stood up and cheered at the idea, hearing it in Loki’s cold, vicious, _vengeful_ tones made it harder to take. Or maybe what made it harder was the small flutter his stomach gave at the idea someone would do that for him. _Crazy criminal_ , he told himself firmly, _you have no idea why he's doing it, let alone if it’s for you._

_He still did it though._

“Excuse me a moment,” Loki murmured quietly and pulled away. Tony tried to follow him and regretted it the second the idiocy had his muscles rippling over injured flesh and bone.

“Wait-” Tony choked out around the pain, suddenly, acutely terrified of being left alone, left to _literally die alone_ because he couldn’t look a criminal in the eye who was - probably quite romantically when he looked at in sociopathic terms - telling Tony he’d kill to keep him safe. “Don’t-” he tried again but Loki was suddenly in front him once more.

His eyes were devoid of any of their previous malice, and he even had a small smile that actually verged towards comforting. “I am going to find a key, but I will be back.” A very gentle, tentative touch of fingers found his uninjured shoulder. “I will not leave without you, Anthony.”

A part of Tony was resisting believing him; it was the part that was trying to crow loudly and adamantly that Loki was a known liar and a murder that Tony had seen kill with his own eyes. The rest of him though, that part knew that the _only_ person Tony had proof Loki killed was Ultron: a psychopath and Tony's intended torturer. Loki had tracked him down, come to wherever the fuck Ultron had taken him and _saved his life_. No, Tony had to make a choice on whether to trust right here, right now based on the facts - the facts that were leaning heavily in Loki’s favour. He couldn’t stop Loki at this point anyway, even if he did decide to leave which - no, actually, that wasn't true. Loki _had_ stopped when Tony had asked him, had come back the moment he called and struggled, had tried to _comfort_ him. There was no other reason for Loki to be so careful. No other reason for Loki to be here, in front of him, waiting for Tony's response without something that stank far too much of _feelings_.

Tony let out a shaking sigh; he couldn’t deal with this right now. He wanted out of the cuffs and maybe admittance to a hospital for his ribs - loath as he was to go to one normally. His shoulder being set again would be nice as well. God, but he was in fucking _pain_ , and it was making itself known the longer he waited. It wasn't letting him ignore it anymore. Tony decided to inch a bit more of his life into Loki’s long-fingered hands. He gave a small nod that Loki, thankfully, took for the agreement it was and stepped away. 

He went over to Ultron's prone form, his eyes sweeping his figure before he turned to assess the table. Tony felt a bolt of abject panic fly through him when Loki made his way towards it. He scanned each item before going to the edge to grab something, he then turned to head back to Tony. He had his hands openly displayed to show the key he had picked up, and Tony relaxed. The problem he discovered in doing it was that the abrupt action had made the pain ratchet up, the tension to his muscles having only exacerbated it. Loki though, was quick in detaching him and even helped pull out his injured arm with faint but guiding touches. When he was free, Loki took a gentle hold of his right elbow.

“This will hurt,” he warned Tony.

Tony gritted his teeth, staring at a fixed point on the wall in front of him. “Do it.”

Loki didn’t hesitate or allow Tony to think any further about it. His movements were quick, clinical, and _practiced_. He knew exactly what to do to put it back with minimal fuss. Hell, he’d done it better than Barnes, but the drinks the Agent had been consuming could have been the reason for that. It still hurt like a _bitch_ , and on top of his damaged ribs, he couldn’t quite suppress the pained keen. He fell forward, panting and shivering with adrenaline as he tried not to drown in agony.

When his head finally managed to clear, he became aware of three things in rapid succession. One, Loki had very nice cologne, and it was very easy to smell it as his face was _pressed against Loki’s chest_. Two, Loki’s hands were running soothingly over his left arm and back. Three, Loki was murmuring in his ear in a language Tony didn’t know. He had no idea what the other was saying, but the cadence was a silken hum as breath fanned his skin.

“Erm,” Tony croaked and both Loki’s movement and words stopped abruptly. Tony would never admit it, but he might have closed his eyes and took in one more breath of a smell he had a sinking suspicion would end up being a god damn _comfort_ to him later. He pulled back to look at Loki, the other's hands slipping free with the motion. The criminal was kneeling identically to him, and there was barely any space between them. Tony had no idea what to say to that or the way that Loki was looking at him. Tony would remember that face for a long time and still not be able to decipher what emotions were actually on it. “Thank you?”

Loki began to say something only to pause halfway through as he realised he wasn’t using English. He cleared his throat, actually seeming mildly embarrassed at the accident. “You’re welcome, Anthony.” He broke the gaze to look Tony up and down. It wasn’t appreciatively like it had been outside of his apartment - no small wonder, Tony was sure he looked like a fucking train wreak - it was pure evaluation. “Can you stand?”

Tony chuckled, rough and raw but honest despite that. “To get out of this place? I’ll fucking crawl.”

“Well,” Loki smirked, “hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Rising slightly so that he was no longer kneeling, Loki ended up in a crouch before he held his hands between them. On another day, Tony would have scoffed at the offer of help and used the wall to push himself to his feet. On this day, Tony decided dignity could go get fucked, and he took each bit of assistance that was offered to him. After all, he didn’t think he’d gain anything with Loki by making himself worse through bravado.

Loki still seemed surprised at his choice though, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. Tony raised his eyebrows, but Loki didn’t comment and Tony found himself reluctant to as well. He also found himself disinclined to refuse when Loki pressed cautious hands against him, sending questioning glances with each new touch. Tony kept staying silent as he was helped to his feet and his good arm placed around Loki’s shoulders. Loki had picked up the gun again and was holding it in the hand not around Tony’s waist.

Tony side-eyed the weapon suspiciously. “You planning on running into anyone else?”

Loki glanced down at the weapon, his lips pressing in a thin line. “I believe our exit will be undisturbed.”

“You _believe?_ ” Tony wheedled.

The look he received was carefully blank. “Would you prefer to hear that there is no longer anyone remaining to resist us?”

Tony felt his mouth go dry at what that implied. Curiously, the moral compass that should have been screaming at him about the death of those people was decidedly unconcerned. He tried poking that space in his mind, looking for guilt or even horror, but instead he found a twisted satisfaction and the thought _that’s what you get for pissing off **my** criminal_. He wilfully ignored the second part for now, a little terrified at the possessive nature of it. He would look at that again with a bottle of scotch, when he was fifty. That sounded like a good number and a good age; he might be able to deal with it by then.

Loki was still waiting for an answer though, and the excuse of pain could only stretch so far when there was a mind like Tony Stark’s involved; one that couldn’t even _shut up_ right now. Loki had also saved him so he was probably owed something - maybe not that kiss Tony had been willing to give out when he’d registered Ultron had been shot - but lucky for him, desperate mental wishes didn’t count on tallies with international criminals who didn’t know about them.

Still, Loki had been truthful so far. Maybe? It was worth a shot just in case he was.

“Honestly?” Tony told him. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh?” That hint of surprise played across his face again - just quick enough for Tony to catch before something hard took its place. “I suppose you would find death deserving of _some_ people.”

 _Oooh_ , Tony thought, _rock meet very, very hard place._

It also made a place in his chest twitch - guilt at making Loki think he was lumped into the same place as _Ultron?_ Wanting to reassure him he wasn’t? _No, brain, you are mistaken; it’s surely a punctured lung from the baton._

Tony still grimaced and wished he could maintain the asshole he played on TV but that _stupid discomfort_ wasn’t leaving. “I don’t really condone murder,” Tony found himself admitting, “I can’t really, in my job. I’ve...” he hesitated, the memory of his murdered mother far too close to the surface, but he was blaming that entirely on the events of the day, “seen it far too much to be okay with it. But,” Tony didn’t glance in the direction of Ultron; seeing him again wouldn’t change his mind. Tony kept his gaze focused straight ahead, “but I don’t think everyone should have the same thing.”

“You would let some murderers live then?”

Tony looked at Loki, and even though his eyes weren’t on him, were sweeping the area for any possible threats, Tony still felt like he had most of the man’s attention. “I’m not going to miss a fucking second of sleep over everyone in here dying.” Tony told him bluntly. He paused before adding something he would have completely regretted if not for the shocked look it put on Loki’s face. “So yeah, I’d let _some_ murderers live - and let them get away with it too.”

Loki froze them in the middle of the hallway, probably not far from where he took the shot that saved his life as Loki stared at Tony. “Your organization won’t be happy about that.”

“ _Fuck_ my organization, I don’t see them carrying my broken ass out of this building.”

Loki’s mouth twitched like he was repressing a smile and they started walking again. They stayed silent for the rest of the journey through the building and to the black car Loki had parked outside. Loki kept a strong but painless hold on him and made sure to do as little as possible to jar him. They didn’t run into any interference and the only other person Tony saw (aside from the bodies, and there were a few) was the driver who opened the door for Loki to put him inside.

Loki had looked awkward every time they’d seen another corpse and it had been amusing in an odd way. Tony was using the memory of that expression as a distraction from pain and other even _more_ unwanted thoughts as Loki spoke rapidly with the driver. 

When he was done, Loki made his way to the other side so that he could slide in gracefully beside Tony. “I will take you to the nearest hospital.”

“Where are we?” Tony asked, curious by the fact that the area looked deserted and _far_ outside of town.

“Does it matter?”

Tony would have shrugged, and he briefly lamented the inability to do so as he tried to find a different position that didn’t make him want to throw up. “Wouldn’t mind knowing where I could have died.”

“I would not have let you,” Loki assured him as the car started to turn away from the building. His words tasted of the same flames that had burned in his eyes. Tony knew better than to get that bonfire going. He stayed silent instead and received a small sigh from Loki over it. “We are two states over from yours. He had you for almost twelve hours.”

“Shit,” Tony breathed. _I would have been dead without Loki._ He looked at the other with a little bit of fear, a smidgen of awe and a fuck tonne of gratitude mixed with _what the hell is this going to cost me?_ “I said thank you right?”

He saw another one of those little smirks curl around Loki’s mouth. It made him look very pleased with himself - the plump cat that had stopped another feline from attacking his prized mouse. “Oh, I would wait until after you have spoken with your director before thanking me.”

Tony felt himself go pale. “He’s going to know you did this.”

“Well,” Loki made a gesture with his hand, dismissive but certain in his decree, “there will be no proof of course.”

“Except me,” Tony told him.

Loki tilted his head and met Tony’s eyes, thoughtfully. “Except you.”

_But we both know I’m not going to sell you out._

“Shit,” Tony said again, somehow coming out even more emphatic.

“For what it may be worth,” Loki offered, “I’m an insane and unfathomable criminal, and you have no idea why I came for you.” He smiled, a little evilly but largely mischievously. “You could tell them I was licking blood off the walls,” he chuckled, no doubt imagining Fury’s horrified face, “that would be quiet entertaining. How my reputation will flourish!”

Tony couldn’t help it; he laughed. Of course, he regretted it when his ribs _throbbed_ , but Loki was quickly placing a steadying hand on his shoulder until the strongest wave passed. He was frowning, his mouth a thin line of distress, and if Tony might have closed his eyes and silently wished Loki was closer and not on the other side of the car, well, he’d blame it on the injuries later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, when I wrote this I had only seen Age of Ultron once (I have only seen it once more since) so if Ultron's OOC, um, too fucking bad? Lol. Ahem. He's obviously quite different to ~canon Ultron anyway, so let's just ignore any inconsistincies and focus on the more important parts: Loki saving Tony from kidnapping and death. Yay! :P


	6. Chapter 6

It took them about twenty minutes to reach the local hospital of whatever town Ultron had taken him to. Loki didn’t stop sending him concerned looks the entire time despite Tony being _reasonably_ sure he had nothing life-threateningly wrong with him. They arrived outside the hospital in the ambulance bay, and despite a good few people glaring, Loki and the driver were unconcerned. Tony was a bit more wary of the disapproving scowls. “You can’t park here, you know.”

“I am not intending to stay,” Loki told him simply. Tony felt something vaguely akin to hurt, and fuck it all, _abandonment_ at the other’s words, and he was sure some of it must have shown on his face as Loki softened. “You know very well what would happen if I accompanied you.”

 _Right_ , his brain chimed in logically, _S.H.I.E.L.D. Disaster. End of whatever weird little thing they had going on._

Tony drew up a smile that was actually genuine. “And here I was enjoying being chauffeured around the countryside.”

“And bleeding on my upholstery,” Loki added dryly.

Tony didn’t even look to see if it was true. “Adds character.”

Loki chuckled fondly. “Off with you. I’d prefer to have S.H.I.E.L.D. find everything sooner than later and,” he flicked his eyes to the hospital, “for them to remove you to more protective care.”

“I thought you dealt with Ultron?” Tony questioned, a hint of fear creeping down his spine and his body going on alert - although in the back of his mind, he was startled he’d even relaxed, had trusted his _safety_ in Loki’s presence.

“The immediate threat is gone, yes,” Loki agreed. “But I can’t yet be certain if any remain who would follow their deluded recruiter’s vendettas. Until such time as I am convinced - and once S.H.I.E.L.D. have encased you in their,” his lips twitched, “ _decent_ protection again - then I will decrease the level in which I will be watching you.” He turned to face Tony directly instead of the scrutiny he had been giving the hospital. “Public systems are never so secure as to be fully trusted.”

“You’re going to leave but your people will still be here.” Tony summarised, feeling something flutter traitorously in his stomach.

“My _people?_ ” Loki seemed somewhat underwhelmed at the description.

Tony knew they were talking about murderous thugs and lackeys. People whom he didn’t know what they would have been doing if Loki _hadn’t_ ordered them to make sure he was kept safe, but despite all that, Tony still found himself smiling, found himself _teasing_. “What would you prefer? Your minions? Ninja-like criminals? Oooh, your army?” He sniggered. “Loki’s Army.”

“How droll,” Loki intoned, he sounded dry and unimpressed but there was a sparkle in his eyes that said different; it said he was enjoying their banter. It was unfortunate that it was about to be cut short; Tony could see someone making angry gestures at them to a security guard and knew that he would be coming over soon. Loki noticed it as well. “You need to leave, Anthony.”

“And what happens when I do?” _What happens when that smudged line in the sand we just trampled all over gets remodelled?_

Loki looked completely indecisive before he glanced away and to the approaching security guard. When he turned back his face was devoid of anything but standard, detached politeness. “You will make a choice and I will heed it.” Leaning across the car, Tony had to take very good care not to suck in a shocked breath with the state of his ribs. Loki’s arm was almost brushing his shirt as he opened the door handle and lightly pushed it. When he turned his head, they were almost nose to nose. “Take care.”

Tony swallowed thickly, and his voice was almost a whisper, “You too.”

Pulling back, Loki rearranged himself as if he hadn’t moved at all, and Tony forced himself to get out on slightly shaking limbs. He gingerly shut the door before taking a step back. The car didn’t hesitate to drive away, but Tony still felt like Loki’s eyes were on him even if he couldn’t tell with the blacked out windows.

Wrapping his good arm around his stomach, he slowly began moving towards the guard who had frozen with shock. He put on his best authoritative voice. “Hey, you, I need a phone and a wheelchair and a really nice painkiller. I think I have cracked ribs - also, I was just kidnapped and I work for S.H.I.E.L.D, you know S.H.I.E.L.D, right? Big, awesome organization that’s looking for Isaac Stark? No? Well, get on that, will you? I’d like to get back to my apartment some time this century.”

Unfortunately, it took a while for the security guard and most of the staff to actually listen to his ramble, and since he didn’t have any quarters for a payphone, he couldn’t do much about it at first. It took a nice goth with a broken hand rummaging in his pocket to pull out some coins before he could use the public phone shoved in the corner to call Barnes.

He still hadn’t been seen by a Doctor so his name probably wasn’t pinging on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system just yet. He just hoped the terrible as fuck reception wouldn’t keep Barnes from hearing him speak.

“Who the fuck is this?” Barnes demanded when he answered the phone, but Tony could hear the worry in his voice and the hesitant dash of hope that Barnes couldn’t quite squash at getting an unknown call. Tony wasn’t surprised Barnes suspected it was him already; he was known for getting his ass out of the frying pan pretty successfully.

He still slumped a little against the wall in relief at the sound of the other, his eyes closing momentarily. “What? No hello?”

The line went dead silent before he _heard_ Barnes let out a breath, the sound coming out scratchy over the line. “Fucking Christ, Stark. Where the hell are you?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “not entirely sure. Couple of states over, maybe? I’m in a hospital - the service is dreadful by the way; I have cracked ribs and mental trauma, and no one cares. I don’t like this sleepover.”

He heard Barnes muttering orders to the people nearby as he spoke - he’d obviously managed to catch the man while he was still inside S.H.I.E.L.D. “I’m putting a trace on this call. Are you in danger?”

Tony winced and hoped Barnes didn’t hear it. He shifted slightly to try and alleviate some of the pain in his body, not that the grimace had come from the pain exactly. “I’d say I’m good.”

“This wasn’t an amateur, Stark,” Barnes told him. “I need to know _exactly_ how clean your escape was.” He could hear more movement in the background. “We’re sending some of the local forces over to keep an eye on you-”

“That’s really not necess-”

“It damn well fucking _is_ , Stark. The guy who got you murdered the Maximoffs.”

Tony felt his breath catch hard in his throat as his heart speed up. He knew for a _fact_ that the family hadn’t been tortured and neither had the girl, but judging by the mental trauma she had, Tony didn’t want to imagine if anyone _else_ had while she’d been the sick fuck’s captive. He swallowed with difficulty, but his voice still came out hoarse. “It’s not a problem.”

“This guy is relentless. We got some info from the girl when she found out someone was in trouble. Opened up about it when she thought she could help and-”

“ _Barnes_ ,” Tony snapped and closed his eyes. Now or never. They’d find out anyway and while he wouldn’t _admit shit_ to S.H.I.E.L.D., he wasn’t about to make his friend worry. Barnes already sounded stressed to the max, and he could practically see the agent vibrating out of his skin with the _need_ to be guarding Tony, to be watching his back, and ready to take down anyone who tried to harm him. He took a deep breath, knowing this would open him up to a whole avenue of problems he wasn’t going to enjoy Barnes digging into. “I might have had help.”

The faint sounds of motion he could hear, field gear swishing, slight increase of Barnes’ breathing; it all halted.

“Define _help_ ,” he demanded.

Tony’s mouth tipped into a faint smirk as he admonished, “You know I don’t like voyeurism, Barnes! You kinky bastard!” _I can’t talk when your call is inevitably being bugged._

“Just shut up and tell me if you have a trail behind you or not? Quit the innuendos for half a second.” Barnes replied. _Message received_. Barnes was listening closely for what he _wasn’t_ saying.

Tony bit his lip, wondering how to pass it across before it suddenly clicked. “What? I’ve just been in a life threatening situation, and my _friend_ isn’t going to use my _first name?_ ”

 _Please, please, please remember that conversation we had_. It had been a while ago, back when Loki first came and talked to him outside the apartment, but Barnes was smart, Barnes was a fucking _investigator_ ; he’d put the pieces together.

The fact that he started cursing in heavy and vehement Russian spoke very eloquently that it had been passed along just fine.

“Do not leave that fucking hospital,” Barnes snarled. “I will be there in two fucking hours.”

“You shouldn’t be speeding-”

“I will _hijack a fucking plane_ if it will get me there faster. You sit down, you shut up, and you _stay in the fucking sight of those cops when they get there_.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony would have held up his hands if Barnes could see; as it was, he just smiled softly at the thought of his friend. Barnes was just like him in a way - cared through sharp insults and harsh words but would go to the edge of the universe and beyond to protect the people whom he loved. So Tony would yield, just this once. “I’ll be good,” he glanced around the room and spotted the goth who looked like he was trying to meditate the pain away. “But I’m going to run out of quarters soon.”

“Call 911 and I will _make_ them patch you through so that I can be certain you’re not doing something stupid.”

“Awwh, snookums, that’s so sweet of you.”

“Fuck off, you walking disaster,” but his voice was too thick with affection and relief - yet still so much concern.

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Tell J not to worry too much.”

“Don’t you fucking da-” but Tony put the receiver down before he could finish the threat. He’d done what he’d needed to: told his friend he was out of danger and alerted the calvary who would come bounding through the doors in no time. His job done, he decided he deserved some much needed relaxation.

Making his way over to the only generous person in the waiting room, he plopped down next to the goth who opened tired eyes that were creased with barely concealed pain. Pressing his head against the wall, Tony offered with a gesture at the other’s hand. “Trade you?” The goth blinked. “War wounds? Stories? I’m offering a shoulder to cry on here. Only hypothetically because, please don’t, this was dislocated about thirty minutes ago, and I have cracked ribs so no leaning.”

The goth gave him a small, bemused smirk that reminded him too much of Loki, and Tony had to mentally shake the image away. When the goth talked though, he sounded nothing like the criminal; this young man - not teenager, older than that but still young to Tony - was completely American, although not from the current state and was more than happy for the distraction from the pain.

Tony knew it was going to be awkward when his police guard burst in or when they got to his part of the trade - kidnapping, torture, forensic scientist for government agency - but it was nice for now. It would help keep his mind off everything for the few hours he had before reality crashed back down in the form of a very, very pissed off James Buchanan Barnes.

* * *

The police took around fifteen minutes to arrive - Tony was _still_ in the waiting room but had managed to keep from telling the goth anything beyond the shoulder and how he did it himself with some very careful omissions on the _why_. They had started up a good chat about music when the uniforms burst in and startled the room; Tony just groaned. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to apologise or explain to the other before he was swept up in the police’s concerned arms. They quickly and bluntly babbled their worries and outed him - more successfully than his announcement had - as part of S.H.I.E.L.D. They’d then rushed him through and towards a Doctor. He’d tried to protest that other people needed treatment, tried to demand they see his new friend first, but they weren’t having it.

The goth - they hadn’t bothered with names - had chuckled a little at him when he’d called back to the waiting room “ _your sacrifice will not be in vain, I will come for you!_ ” with all the dramatics he’d shown in his story-telling. He hoped he was able to sneak out and talk to the other again; he still needed to finish his argument over how AC/DC was by far superior to whatever little makeup-clad boy-band with half their face covered by hair that the goth was into. Of course, he could just be trying to find a place to hide before the clock struck midnight and his burly policemen turned into a lethal Barnes with his furious death glare.

He was sure that the guard of honour he’d been given was the only reason the doctor who’d seen him hadn’t sent him away with a pat on the back and some nice drugs to dull the edges. He had bruising, a _lot_ of bruising, two cracked ribs, and some superficial cuts. The doctor was, okay, also concerned about his mental state and tried to bring in some kind of counsellor for trauma. He probably shouldn’t have laughed in her face, but he really didn’t think her small hospital and general baseline trauma skills would be particularly helpful. He didn’t think a counsellor would be helpful in _general_ , but he didn’t say that to her. He told her he’d suffer through S.H.I.E.L.D ordered evaluation for weeks after this, so please don’t make it worse. She hadn’t been happy but she’d agreed. She also offered her services should he want them before leaving the hospital. He’d leered and waggled his eyebrows at _services_ , but it hadn’t had any effect. Pity, he would have enjoyed a flush or some outrage.

The cops were being nice to him at least. Usually they got their back up about jurisdiction and government agencies ordering them around; he supposed seeing as he was just the _scientist_ , the _civilian_ , they didn’t feel anything but that same protective urge agents everywhere got for their scientists. Normally, Tony started talking and arguing and sniping to kick them out of that look of pity and seeing him as a _weakness_ extremely fast. He was smarter than them, and he was going to show it. But, not this time. He’d been - although he’d never admit it - feeling a low-level anxiousness ever since Loki had warned him there could be _more_ of Ultron’s men out there. He’d felt safe with Loki - and he wasn’t even _thinking_ about the repercussions of _that_ right now - and he’d feel the same when Barnes arrived too, but for now he needed to keep the cops as onside as possible until he was in the comfort of someone whose skills he trusted. So that meant playing nice.

It was slowly killing him.

He’d thought about asking for a phone to at least call JARVIS, but if he got one and didn’t call Barnes back, he’d be crucified, or the step up from crucified as he might still be getting that for the whole kidnapping thing anyway.

He was wondering about just _what_ creative threats Barnes would throw at him when the protective circle of bodies surrounding his private room started to ripple. It was as if the first one had been tapped and the rest had quickly followed suit; someone was coming, and the guard at the door’s reaction had acted like a domino effect on the others. There was a pause outside the door - hopefully for a badge check and not for someone to get shot - before the guard stepped aside. _Ah_ , Tony winced. Rogers, Barnes, _and_ Odinson, wasn’t he special?

Rogers seemed to still be thanking the cop; his earnest and grateful face directed with full force at the bashful policeman. Tony could still see the tense signs in Rogers’ expression though; showing his obvious worry for Tony. What a sap. Odinson was listening and nodding in appropriate intervals to what was being discussed, but it was plain to see that he just wanted to rip open the door and jump in to interrogate. It made Tony frown; surely they hadn’t twigged to Loki being involved yet, had they? He knew Barnes wouldn’t break his confidence - not yet at least - but judging by the laser-intensity of Barnes glare that hadn’t moved off Tony, well, Tony knew Barnes was less happy to see him in one piece and more ready to be the one to rip him _to_ pieces.

When Rogers finally finished talking, he gave the cop one more firm nod before opening the door and coming inside with the others trailing him. Rogers' smile was all relief, and Tony had to admit, even if grudgingly, that the guy wasn’t a total annoyance, and it was nice to see that he cared. “Isaac, I’m glad you’re safe.”

Tony winced and so did Barnes, a brief second of their usual camaraderie before Barnes wiped it off his face. “What the hell happened, Stark?”

Rogers sent his ‘ _friend_ ’ - Tony couldn’t even think the word without little quotations and a heavy dose of sarcasm - a disapproving look. Rogers had never understood that their antagonism fronted far too many feelings that they both pretended didn’t exist. Not that Rogers had any reason to be or ever had been jealous; Barnes was too head over heels for Rogers to ever look at Tony, and Tony was too busy being ecstatic with having him as a _friend_ to ever consider looking at Barnes in any other way.

“Well,” Tony began, answering Barnes’ question and drawing the attention of all three, “a very, very crazy and fucked up man shot me in the neck with a dart.” He barely resisted the urge rub at where he’d felt that pinprick. It was nothing in comparison to the other injuries he had, but it still gave him chills from the violation and from what _could_ have been in that injection - like _acid_. “Did you find the place he had me yet?” Tony asked to force his mind from it. “There was a nice little table of tools he was,” Tony couldn’t stop the way the muscles in his face flinched at the memory, “planning to use on me.”

Rogers' face was swept clean of all emotion. “What kind of tools?”

“Awh jeez, Rogers,” Tony whined, using the childish tone to mask the fluttering of his heart from remembering, “can’t you just go and _look_ like a normal person?”

He sent Tony a sympathetic look. “We do need it on record; you know the procedure.”

“That doesn’t mean he needs a gang-up or to talk about this shit with someone he barely knows.” Barnes nodded at Odinson who glared. “You wanna ask about Laufeyson? That’s great. Wait until after _I’ve_ talked to him about the current criminal.”

“The connection cannot be allowed to go cold!” Odinson argued.

“ _Please_ ,” Barnes sneered. “If your _brother_ wants a trail to go cold, it’ll fucking ice up with a thought. Don’t play that with me.”

“You do not know-”

“I know my friend _almost died_ ,” Barnes shouted, his voice rising and startling both Tony and Rogers. They glanced at each other with mutual confused surprise; Barnes didn’t let that sort of thing happen. Odinson looked shocked and slightly guilty though, miracle of miracles. Barnes took a step towards Odinson and even though he was smaller Odinson still seemed to shrink. “Imagine it was your friend, imagine if _you_ almost fucked up and lost them, and then try and overrule _my_ fucking decision.”

Rogers moved before Odinson did and placed a hand on the Interpol agent’s shoulder. “Give them a few minutes. Barnes can get the statement, and we can speak to Isaac again after we’ve been to the site.”

Odinson looked between Tony and Barnes, a perpetual wince taking over his expression. “I apologise,” he said to them both before looking to Barnes. “My haste has clouded my judgment.” He nodded at Tony. “I will need to speak with you about my brother, but Agent Barnes may do so regarding this first. Take care.”

Swallowing thickly, Tony really hoped that hadn’t reacted too obviously to Odinson’s final words: _take care_. How was it that he believed the words had more genuine feel coming from Loki than they did from an agent who was actually supposed to give a shit?

He kept his mouth carefully shut while Rogers and Odinson left the room; no one blinked twice when Barnes closed the blinds either. It was when they were as blocked out from the rest of the hospital as possible and with his back to Tony that Barnes took in deep breath. Tony saw his shoulders rise and fall before he turned on his heel and stalked over to the bed. Tony almost wanted to press backwards into the mattress, but he made himself stay firm. He was expecting yelling, swearing, the threat of being punched if he wasn’t in a hospital, but what he got instead was Barnes' arms wrapping carefully around his shoulders as he bent over the bed to engulf Tony in a hug.

Tony made a sound somewhere in his throat and gripped Barnes' S.H.I.E.L.D. issue vest with his left hand; that arm did have more drips in it, but it _wasn’t_ the one attached to a recovering dislocated shoulder.

“Don’t scare me, Tony,” Barnes whispered, and it was the use of his _name_ that made his breath catch. He closed his eyes and breathed in his friend.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” he answered sincerely.

They held each other for a few moments - more like the giant children they were than the government agents they were meant to be - before Barnes pulled back. Tony cleared his throat a few times and kept his eyes on the bedding, Barnes just blinked his emotions away because he was unfairly skilled. When Tony finally caught his gaze again, he winced to find not _all_ emotions were gone; there was a barely concealed fury just waiting to be unleashed.

His voice when he spoke however was cold and calm. “Laufeyson helped you escape.”

Tony really missed being able to shrug and move freely; it was really cutting into his repertoire of impervious gestures. “I neither confirm nor deny the involvement of a third party.”

“Christ, Stark,” Barnes hissed, not even trying to work around his stonewalling. “They’re going to _know_ if he was there; you can’t just _deny_ it.”

“And _you_ know he’s not going to get caught unless he wants to,” Tony countered.

“You’re a witness. You also work for a government agency; your opinion has _weight_.”

Tony was already shaking his head. “He saved me. He stopped Ultron from pouring acid on my face - _slowly_. He’s a criminal, but at this point I owe him. You, S.H.I.E.L.D, everyone would have been too late, and we _both know it_. I can’t just... I can’t ignore that.”

Barnes let out a breath through his teeth and began pacing. “I let it go,” Barnes told him, “I ignored your little _gift_ and anything else going on-”

“Good thing,” Tony chimed in, “or he might have liked me alive less.”

“But you can’t tell me this is a smart thing,” Barnes continued as if he’d never spoken. He was at the edge of the bed now, gesturing with his hand while his eyebrows puckered. “He’s becoming obsessed with you. It might have worked in your favour this time, but what about the next one?”

“I know what I’m-”

“No, you _don’t_. Stark,” Barnes pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really have no idea.”

Tony frowned. “You know something you’re not telling me.”

Barnes huffed out a sad excuse for a laugh. “Are you in any position to bitch to me about that?”

“Eh,” Tony moved his hand in a side to side motion, and this time Barnes’ laugh was a bit more real as he moved one of the chairs that was beside the bed so he could slump into it. He was even looking vaguely at ease when he’d finished.

“I still need details. Steve’s going to want them, and _you’re_ going to want to do this with me rather than him or Peggy.” Tony sighed but nodded. Barnes pulled out a phone and spun it in his hand. “Be a good boy and answer all my questions, and I _might_ let you play Angry Birds later.”

“Asshole,” Tony grumbled, but they were both smirking slightly. When Barnes put Tony’s phone between them, Tony didn’t grab for it, instead he started recounting everything without prompting while Barnes pulled out a notepad to take down what he needed.

Barnes truly was a good friend, far better than Tony deserved but too important for Tony to ever try to push away. Not that Barnes would ever let him; no, he’d be tackling Tony to the floor and hog-tying him until he behaved; probably gag him too, the bastard.

It really was insufferable that the idea only made Tony feel fond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of a filler chapter, I'm afraid - but enjoy it while it lasts. Soon enough you'll be looking back at this and _wishing_ the chapters were this simple ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a new chapter! I hope you enjoy :)

It took longer than Tony wanted before Barnes was satisfied, or really, as satisfied as he could be while looking like he wanted to resurrect and shoot Ultron all over again. He’d done his job though and kept almost all of the emotion from his countenance as he listened and prompted for more when needed. Tony was sure he would have continued it if Rogers hadn’t knocked on the door and told Barnes they were going to the warehouse. Barnes had been torn, but Tony had shooed him off with only a mild shudder at the memory of the place. His police guard has also been changed while they’d been in the room and was now a S.H.I.E.L.D. one. Tony did feel mildly comforted by that.

He also used the excuse of Barnes leaving to “call his family” so that he could avoid Odinson a little longer. The agent had only looked more hang-dogged when he’d been outside the door and heard Tony’s comment; he’d left with them to the crime scene without protest after that. Tony had spun his phone a couple of times before putting it to his ear and dialing the line in the lab that he’d set up to go directly to voicemail.

“You have reached the laboratory of Mr Stark,” JARVIS' dulcet tones filled his ears, and he smiled before interrupting the A.I.

“Hey, J.”

“Sir!” JARVIS exclaimed, and the audible relief warmed Tony’s heart. He dared _anyone_ to tell him JARVIS couldn’t feel emotions.

“Sorry about the vacation,” Tony told him, relaxing back into the pillows and closing his eyes. “You back on at the apartment?”

“Systems are functioning accurately,” JARVIS agreed, “Agent Barnes assisted with the repairs.”

Tony eyes flew open. “He _did?_ ”

“He kept me apprised of the situation and wished to have your apartment at optimum protection for when you returned.”

Tony had to press his lips tightly together and blink a few times to try and ignore the rush of _affection_ he felt for his friend. People didn’t treat JARVIS like a human, and some wouldn’t take direction from him the ‘bigger version of Siri’ - as if that wasn’t the biggest insult to _ever_ give JARVIS. Yet there was Barnes - snatching Tony’s phone to keep JARVIS updated like the family member _he was_ and had gone to his home and reconnected JARVIS despite it being a still active crime scene.

God, he didn’t deserve a friend like Barnes.

_Wait. Family. Phone._

“Fuck,” Tony jerked and hissed when it pulled at his injuries.

“Sir?”

“Barnes. He updated you on what happened. Did he-” Tony swallowed, “did he tell anyone else?”

“I am sorry, sir. It was requested I not inform you unless asked.” Tony could feel his stomach sinking. “Agent Barnes did use your phone to communicate your capture with Howard Stark. He wished to inform him before the media or Mr Stark’s own people became aware of the action.” Tony hissed out a curse and when JARVIS made a surprised noise, Tony knew _exactly_ what was about to happen. “Mr Stark is calling; would you like him put through?”

“Fucking tattler,” Tony grumbled. He bet Barnes had phoned Howard the second he was out of the room - or maybe there was a bug in his phone that would let Barnes know when he made a call so he could time it perfectly. God, he didn’t deserve a menace like Barnes. Tony sighed and leant back on the pillow in preparation for what was to come. “Okay, put him through.”

It only took a moment before his father’s voice came over the line sounding - nicely enough considering the circumstances - frazzled and concerned, “Tony? Tony, are you alright?”

“Hey, Dad.” Tony couldn’t believe his voice had come out as soft and _pathetic_ as that, like it was about to crack on the word. _Stark men are made of iron_ , he told himself firmly.

He went to clear his throat but Howard beat him to it with a shaky sigh. “Where are you? Are you in a hospital? Agent Barnes only said that it was alright to call you.”

“Did _he_ call _you?_ ” Tony asked.

“Message,” Howard dismissed. “I understand that he’s busy putting the perpetrator behind bars.” There was a level of _or else I will_ behind that sentence that was remarkably comforting. “Now, _how are you?_ ”

The tone was the pure Howard Stark he’d grown up with: no arguments, no bullshit. This was the man who was CEO of his own company and damn good at it. Tony felt like a kid again, but unlike in his youth, he didn’t feel cold and fearful of upsetting his father; now he felt cared for and reassured. “Yeah, I,” he cleared his throat this time. “I’m okay.”

“Are you injured?”

“Cracked ribs and a shoulder popped back in. I’ve done worse in my own lab.”

“And the person who did this?” There was steel and vengeance in Howard’s tone, and Tony suddenly wondered just who would have gotten to the front of that line first if things had turned out differently - Loki, Barnes, or Howard. He was glad he didn’t have to find out. “ _Son?_ ”

The whipcord command had Tony blurting out the answer, “Dead.”

Howard paused before asking cautiously, “By one of your agents?”

“I,” Tony glanced at the windows; the blinds were drawn up now, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was lingering outside, “I can’t actually tell you.”

Howard made an unimpressed noise that told Tony if he didn’t call and personally get it out of Nick Fury, he’d find a way to read the reports or drag it out of Tony when they were next in a room alone together.

Normally the gesture would exasperate and warm him, and he’d make himself off angrier than he was, but this time he actually felt something not unlike fear travel down his spine. He didn’t know what would happen if Howard found out about Loki, but he didn’t think the outcome would be anything good. “Don’t dig into this,” Tony requested, “ask me about it later, fine, but please don’t dig into this, Dad.” _I have enough problems as it is trying to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to believe it without you snooping._

There was a moment’s silence before his father hedged, “Are you in trouble for this?”

“Hah,” Tony barked out a laugh. _I will be_. “Let’s hope not.”

“But you’re alright?” He questioned again, softer and openly worried because _Stark men were made of fucking tissuepaper._

Tony smiled slightly. “Yeah, Dad, I am. Thanks.”

He heard Howard let out a breath of relief followed by the creak of a leather chair as he fell back into it. “I thought you were meant to be safe in your job?”

“Dad,” Tony tried.

“At least you have that agent to inform your _true_ family members for you.”

“ _Dad,_ ” Tony groaned.

“If you had of been gone much longer, I was going to come down there and damn the consequences.” Tony gave up on attempting to protest until Howard had ranted out the last of his leftover worry and the frustration at being helpless. It took a good few minutes, but Tony just let the oddly relaxing sound of Howard’s voice wash over him.

When it finally seemed like he was winding down, Tony asked, “How’s Pepper?”

“Worried,” Howard grumbled. “I’ll speak with her afterwards.”

Tony nodded even though no one could see. “How’s everything else?” He left the ‘ _at S.I._ ’ silent; you never did know who could be listening - not that it wouldn’t have been fucking obvious the second anyone heard Howard’s voice, but habits were habits.

“It would do you well to read the portfolios I send you,” Howard criticised, but there was an undercurrent of humour that came from a long-standing joke. “You might not need to ask such questions.”

“I read them whenever I want to fall asleep!” Tony assured and sighed a little wistfully, “I could use one now.”

“I’m sure I could have Miss Potts-”

“I’m fine!”

Howard chuckled, and they both fell quiet for a long moment. Tony pulled the phone back from his ear slightly to check the time. “Christ. It’s late there. Don’t you have to be up in the morning?”

“If you ever imply sleep is more important than your wellbeing again, Anthony Stark, I will not be pleased.”

Tony rolled his eyes but tried to fight down a smile. “I’m fine, you’re fine. We’re all fine. Go to sleep, old man.”

“Ungrateful,” Howard argued along with a slew of other insults that Tony childishly interrupted with his own. It went on for a while before Howard said something particularly creative, and Tony laughed only to groan and hold his ribs moments later. “Tony?”

“I’m fine,” he answered his Father, “can’t laugh with cracked ribs, you know?”

“You should rest.”

“What? Stealing my ideas now? Plagiarism!”

He could hear the smirk in his father’s voice. “You’re under contract. S.I. owns a part of everything you make.”

“Extortion!”

Howard laughed again. “Take it up with Legal.” He paused before telling him seriously, “Call me when you’re out of the hospital - or any time sooner if you want.”

Tony made a point of sighing loudly. “Fine. Seriously, one measly kidnapping, and everyone gets so over-protective.”

“If I’ve taught you nothing else, it’s to always protect your investments.” Tony made an indignant squawking noise, but Howard just spoke over it. “I’ll be checking in with Agent Barnes if you aren’t communicating sufficiently.”

“You can’t just _use my friend against me_. It’s unethical, unconscionable, rude, and downright-”

“Good _night_ , Tony,” Howard interjected with a firm but fond voice before he ended the call.

Tony pulled the phone away and blinked at it. “Honestly, why do I even bother?”

However, despite his complaint, Tony kept the phone beside him and couldn’t wipe the soft smile off his face. It had taken a long time for the two of them to reach anything near the kind of fond, caustic relationship they had. It had been hard and painful and sometimes Tony had just wanted to throw in the towel and flip the old man off - but he never had because Howard had so obviously been _trying_.

He was glad he’d given it the chance he had. His father wasn’t perfect, but he cared, and it was moments like this, injured and alone in a hospital bed, where it was nice to have a parent out there who had you on their mind.

It was nice to forget about the problems he had, if only for a conversation’s duration.

* * *

The look that Rogers gave him after he came back from the warehouse - _saw the table_ , Tony’s mind filled in - was kind of touching. Rogers looked like Tony's father sounded: ready to tear Ultron to shreds if given half the chance. Rogers had even come into Tony’s hospital room again, sans Barnes or Odinson and told him, very quietly but firmly, “However you got out of there, Tony, I’m not going to ask.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up. “Are you inferring that I could get away with mass-murder?”

Steve’s mouth twisted. “No. While I think you’re very brilliant,” Tony was sure his eyes couldn’t get any bigger, “and _could_ have done something like that if your life was on the line, I also saw the manacles and can calculate the line of sight for each take down. Someone was coming _in_ , not going _out_.”

“So what’s your point?” Tony asked, a little defensively.

Steve’s eyes flicked to the side. “Did you see the entire contents of that table?”

Tony hesitated. “No?”

The agent nodded, like he’d expected as much. “Bucky won’t chase it either, and if Odinson tries, I’ll block him. I don’t _like_ what this implies, but that’s a different matter entirely and _will_ be in my report. But I’m not about to personally chase him after what he saved you, and probably a lot of other people, from.”

“Him?” Tony repeated softly. He knew he’d have to follow up on the other aspects of what Rogers had said, but right now his biggest concern was Loki.

Steve cracked a very small, very wry smile. “Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. knows the calibre bullets and guns he likes to use, and based off what Bucky said about what he saw, he was in too much of a rush to even think about changing them out.”

Tony frowned, feeling again like he was missing something. “Said and saw?”

“He’ll be in to talk to you about that later, knowing him.”

“That is _not_ comforting, Rogers.”

A hint of his usual boyish grin peeked out, but before Rogers could even speak, it had faded, clouded by the thoughts that Tony could almost see leaking from his eyes. “I know you’re not fond of me-”

“What gave that away?” Tony interjected with a smirk.

Rogers shot him the usual exasperation. “I still can’t figure out _why_ ,” and he looked really frustrated by that, “but I don’t want you hurt, and I can understand why you don’t want to persecute _him_ for this.”

Tony watched Rogers shrewdly. “Barnes told you?”

“He summed it up at the warehouse.”

Tony ran his less injured hand over his face. “It’s not a good thing, I know.”

“He saved your life,” Rogers shrugged. “That’s a better and far more legal follow through of intent than can be said of most of S.H.I.E.L.D. on a good day with you.”

It took Tony a moment but then he laughed. “Did you just crack a joke? About being so irritating S.H.I.E.L.D wants to kill me? After I’ve _almost_ been killed?” The smile on Rogers' face fell as he started to second-guess himself, but Tony just grinned. “What do you know, you _are_ interesting somewhere deep down in there.”

“Thanks,” Rogers said dryly but there was a hint of something else - relief? Why would he feel reli- Tony blinked. Tony stared. Tony wondered how he could have been _so fucking oblivious._

Barnes and Rogers had been a secret couple for years, and Tony had kept their secret because Barnes was his friend. He had put up with spending time with Rogers at Barnes' request. He’d been a little nicer to Rogers since he realised he was dating Barnes but hadn’t really stopped mocking or disliking him. He couldn’t even remember how the antagonism started; something to do with Rogers being a stuck up little shit the first time they met? He wasn’t sure.

But had Barnes and Rogers seriously been trying subtly and continually over the years to make Tony like Rogers? Oh God - he was the friend, the _family_ that Rogers was trying to get the approval of as the significant other. Rogers had known Barnes for _years_ before Tony had even met him. How the fuck was this his life?

Tony flopped back down on the bed and gave Rogers a tired look. Well, what were near death experiences for if he couldn’t make his friend happy? “You’re good for him, you know.”

“What?” Rogers’ eyes had widened.

“Not _my_ him, but _your_ him,” Tony elaborated with a faint grin even though he knew that wasn’t the problem. “If I didn’t like you, and _really_ didn’t like you two together, it would have been made clear a _hell_ of a long time ago.”

Rogers snorted. “It’s still obvious we don’t get along.”

“You’re not my type.” Rogers rolled his eyes. “I like you more than Odinson, does that count?”

That, at least, made Rogers crack a grin, but it slowly disappeared, and he stepped closer, looking earnest. “He wants us to get along. Bucky doesn’t really say it, but it’s important to him.”

“He also doesn’t believe in miracles.”

“Be serious, Isaac.”

Tony winced; his default reaction to stern conversations that always felt less real when the person didn’t even know who they were talking to. “Look, I’m not going to be objecting at your wedding, okay? I’ll even do a great speech and only mock you both _minimally._ ”

“Isa-”

“Okay,” Tony cut in, “you want proof you’re welcomed into this weird little family? Ask Barnes for my real name.”

Steve stared at him, and Tony had to admit he was a little shocked himself. His skin actually felt a little like it was crawling, but, come on, if you couldn’t trust Steve Rogers, who could you trust? Besides, Barnes would appreciate it. Maybe. Barnes might not give a shit, but Rogers would at least see it as a confidence and friendship thing; it might even get the guy off his back.

“Your real name?” Rogers said slowly.

“Fury knows, pretty much only because he runs S.H.I.E.L.D. and is a nosy little shit. Bruce and Barnes do too.” _And Loki_ , he pointedly did _not_ say. “Congratulations, you’ve joined an exclusive club, so please don’t _fuck it up now_.”

“Your name’s not Isaac Stark?” Rogers said carefully, his brows furrowed as he tried to piece together what he might have missed.

Tony decided to be annoying and truthful all at once, he liked when it worked out that way. “Well, it’s not Isaac.”

Rogers still looked confused; thank heavens for small mercies - even if a part of him was perversely interested in seeing how Rogers would react and if he’d treat him any differently in the future - but he really wasn’t up for it right now. He made a dismissive gesture with his hands. “Go quiz Barnes if you want more, but do it quietly, _privately_. I only shut up for a good reason, you know.”

“I wasn’t sure there’d ever be a reason for you,” Rogers quipped, and Tony smirked at him.

“So he _can_ be taught.”

Rogers shook his head. “Try and rest before they release you in a couple of hours. Fury wants you back at S.H.I.E.L.D. for a report by the end of the day.”

“But I already reported to Barnes,” Tony whined.

“Well, looks like you’ll be reporting to him too.” Rogers nodded at him. “Hopefully he’ll make you take some time off.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “ _You_ can hope.”

“And sessions with a counselor,” Steve added. “I’ll be recommending both of those to him myself.”

“I take back every nice thing I ever said about you, Rogers,” Tony growled.

Rogers, the asshole, was unperturbed - but he did start to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Try to rest, Stark.”

Tony didn’t know how he was expected to do that, he’d just blown his secret identity for the sake of his friend, had a meeting with Fury he was _not_ looking forward to on the horizon, and on top of that, he still needed to figure out what the hell he was going to do about Loki.

So, rest? Hah. Who did Rogers think he was kidding? He wasn’t going to be doing anything but scratching out of his skin and wondering just where and what Loki was doing, even if he was trying not to.

* * *

Tony didn’t get visited by anyone else from S.H.I.E.L.D. over the next few hours. It gave him _way_ too much time to think about what had happened. He shied away from Ultron but couldn’t bring himself to avoid Loki the same way. He could still remember the other’s careful touches and blazing gaze. It had only been his second conversation with Loki face-to-face, but every part of it felt burnt into his memory. Ultron and the hospital waiting room both had the touch that told Tony they would become a blur over time, but Loki? He felt branded into Tony’s mind - every word, every nuance, the small quirk of his mouth, and the laughter in his eyes.

 _God_ , he needed alcohol - and didn’t it just suck that the only good brand he had was _from_ that very criminal? He couldn’t seem to escape him - but no, that wasn’t right. _You will make a choice, and I will heed it_. Loki had offered him a way out; he always had. The ball was always in Tony’s court; he was just the one who kept on playing.

_And it had saved his life._

Tony rubbed his hands over his face. It twinged his shoulder, but he welcomed the pain. _Bruises and cuts;_ that was all he had to show for his kidnapping, and it was a wonder he was still being confined to a hospital room. Surely they’d tied up all the loose ends they needed to? Tony knew he had; in the time since gaining his phone, he’d emailed Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce with assurances of his health. He’d also had a nice conversation with Bruce about science and movies before the coroner had needed to go, and unfortunately for him, Tony had no one else to bug.

He’d ended up downloading and playing an app on his phone for a good half-hour. JARVIS, the traitor, had locked down access to anything strenuous or work-related. He didn’t know why they thought doing _nothing_ would help him. He was much more likely to go mad. Hell, he’d spent ten minutes staring at an open email to _Sender Unknown_ , and it was only paranoia about being traced or tattled on by JARVIS that had him close the window. Oh, as well as a sense of _what the fuck do I even say to him now?_

He was still absently pondering that while he played minesweeper - half-heartedly planning ways the app could be improved - when the room’s door was opened. He moved his head slightly on the pillow, a small smile forming when he saw Barnes shutting the door behind him. He automatically went over to the curtains to close them. “The bodies are being taken back to S.H.I.E.L.D., and you’re being released.”

“And I was _just_ starting to like it here,” Tony remarked, closing down the game but pretending to still be focused on his phone.

“Fury wants to see you when you’re back.”

Tony winced. “I heard about that.”

Barnes made a noise through his nose and took the seat by his bed. “I heard you’ve been telling Steve secrets.” Flicking his eyes from the phone, he saw a soft smile curving Barnes lips. “Thanks.”

Tony sniffed. “I don’t think I did _anything_ for you.”

“Yeah?” Barnes enquired, “Because it was funny as fuck seeing Steve’s face when I told him. I’d needed that laugh.”

Tony groaned overdramatically. “Please tell me there was video?”

“Sorry,” Barnes grinned, “I didn’t have enough warning to bug myself.”

“That’s just bad planning!” Tony scolded him. “I thought you were some super, special Secret Agent?!” He hadn’t expected his words to bring about the reaction they did. Barnes' good humour fell away, and he let out a long, loud sigh, leaning forward in the chair so his hands dangled between his knees. Tony automatically tensed and laid his phone on the mattress. “What?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“That’s because it is.”

Tony frowned. “Is this what Rogers said you’d talk to me about? It has to do with Loki, doesn’t it?”

Barnes gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of his head.”I thought he might have been responsible for your disappearance.”

It all clicked in Tony’s head at once, and he wished he was still holding his phone so that he had something to grip. “You went to see him.”

Barnes' mouth pulled into a grimace. “Yeah.”

“What?” Tony demanded, sitting up. “What happened?”

“I may have barged in,” Barnes admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “Fury wasn’t pleased, but he understood the state I was in, so,” He shrugged. “He let me get back to work”

Tony couldn’t stop the huff of bemusement. “You just charged into Loki’s office? How the fuck did he take _that?_ ” He winced. “Other than telling Fury.”

Barnes shook his head. “He didn’t say anything. Peggy figured I’d do something stupid. When I left, she was smoothing things over with Laufeyson’s secretary. She was the one to inform Fury.”

“Loki didn’t do anything?” Tony asked, not sure what to do with that. Loki seemed to find S.H.I.E.L.D. somewhere between a fun little game and an utter annoyance. He hadn’t pursued charges against Barton all that time ago as he seemed to find the idea of S.H.I.E.L.D. punishing their own and forcing him to apologise a much more amusing result.

“No,” Barnes agreed, and his eyes sharpened on Tony. “He was far too distracted.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Distracted? From causing S.H.I.E.L.D. to grind their teeth?”

“Yeah,” Barnes admitted, “see, this forensic scientist he’s obsessed with had gone missing.”

“That’s not a good joke, Barnes,” but Tony’s heart was pounding with a twisted kind of flattery at what he knew was the truth. After all, Barnes wasn’t laughing.

Barnes kept his serious, sharp eyes on Tony, watching him shrewdly and not pulling a single punch as he explained. “I went in there ready to rip every nail off his fingers until he told me where you were, but it only took about five seconds to realise he hadn’t done it.” He nodded at Tony’s phone. “You’ve seen him enough to know that the guy is always perfect in his composure and appearance. Right then? He wasn’t. His tie was undone, he’d been running his hands through his hair, and he looked ready to shoot anyone who looked at him wrong, regardless of who they were.”

“Barnes-” Tony tried, but his friend kept going.

“I didn’t talk to him for long, he wasn’t about to let me, but it was obvious S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t the only one searching for you. He was worried, furious - scared even. He didn’t know who had you, but he was determined to find out.”

“ _Barnes-_ ”

Barnes just glared at him, his voice hard and uncompromising as he said, “It was _particularly_ obvious you were on his mind when I tried to question him about you, about where you might have been taken, and he told me, ‘ _do you think I'd be here if I know who had him?_ ’”

His voice was almost a shout when he said the last words, and Tony flinched, less at the volume and more at what he’d _said_ \- or rather, what _Loki_ had.

Tony knew Loki had to have cared to come for him. It wasn’t enough for him to just have plans for Tony’s existence; Loki’s actions had been too fearful, too comforting. Loki was _invested_ in him, and he’d been so vulnerable from Tony’s kidnapping that he’d even let it show to someone like Barnes.

“You need to think very carefully, Tony,” Barnes told him, “about how much attention you’re giving Laufeyson.” Tony went to protest, but Barnes’ glare stopped him cold. “Regardless of the communication you’ve had, and the _gifts_ you’ve been given, you need to recognise one fact: Loki is a criminal and a manipulator. He has so many ulterior motives, we’ve stopped trying to count them. I don’t want him to get so far under your skin that you don’t see him setting up a guillotine for your head.”

“Yeah, while you _may_ have a point,” Tony agreed, prickling slightly at the idea he wasn’t well _aware_ of that, “he also just saved my life. Why do that if he plans to kill me?”

“Yeah, he did save it,” Barnes answered, and Tony got the distinct feeling he’d just walked into a trap. “And you’re now willing to stay silent about his actions against Ultron all because he saved you. You did that on your own, but what exactly is he going to ask you for in recompense for that action? For that brief stint at heroism? What’s he going to ask for in words you’re not going to notice are a request? What is he going to _plant_ that you’re going to glide right onto without fucking _noticing?_ ”

Tony bared his teeth. “You think I’m that fucking stupid and blind not to be keeping a fucking _eye_ out for that?”

“You’re engaging in personal relations with an enemy of not only S.H.I.E.L.D. but the United States of America and most of the free world. Do you really think you have everything under control? Because I’m not fucking sure _any_ of this is sound. He _likes_ you,” Barnes stressed. “Odinson warned that he likes to fuck _men_. What are you going to do if he decides he’s fallen in love with you? What are you going to do if he decides he _wants_ you and damn the fucking consequences or your choice to say _no?_ ”

“Odinson said he won’t do that.”

“Oh,” Barnes threw a hand in the air with frustration, “so we just _believe_ Odinson now? The guy who knows so little of his brother that he didn’t even realise he was a _criminal_ for years?”

“And how many people in S.H.I.E.L.D. know I’m Anthony Stark, huh?” he shot back. “Your _boyfriend_ didn’t until I fucking told him.”

Barnes narrowed his eyes. “So you’re just going to keep walking blindly down this path? Keep letting him manipulate his way into your good graces? You going to get him off a conviction just because he saves your ass again?”

Tony gritted his teeth. “Am I happy Ultron’s dead before he could torture me to death? Yes. Am I happy he was assassinated by someone who wouldn’t have given a fuck about Ultron if he hadn’t been attacking someone he was interested in? No. No, I’m kind of a little horrified by that. Am I _happy_ my friend is telling me that he thinks I’d fucking _betray_ everyone because someone fluttered their eyes at me? No, I’m not, and thanks _so fucking much_ for the trust there, Barnes.”

“Tony, that’s _not_ what this is about.”

“Then what the fuck is it!” Tony shouted.

“It’s that I couldn’t get to you, but _he could!_ ” Barnes yelled, standing up from his chair with such force that it was kicked to the ground. Barnes didn’t seem to notice as he begun to pace. “He could get to you when _no one_ else could find you. How the fuck can I, or anyone else, protect you from that? I’m so fucking angry you’re in this position in the first place, but I’m _relieved_ that he cared enough to do it or I’d have only found your corpse. It fucking _terrifies_ me that this guy has fixated on you. I can’t stop him, and I can’t stop you. I can only sit on the fucking sidelines and hope keeping my mouth shut is the right thing to do.”

“ _Barnes_ ,” Tony murmured, not quite sure what to say as all the fight drained out of him in response to his friend’s worried rant.

“You _have_ to realise this is going to blow up in someone’s face,” Barnes implored, looking a little desperate around the edges.

Letting out a sigh, Tony leant back against the pillow. He didn’t know how he could explain anything without Barnes wanting to lock him in a padded cell. He knew that this had been boiling for a while - probably since Loki had first visited him. The kidnapping had only exacerbated it. He just didn’t know what he could say to convince or reassure his friend. Barnes _knew_ him. He knew he wasn’t going to stop, that Loki had only intrigued him more by coming for him. He was his own worst enemy, and Barnes had seen that more times than he could count - but, then again, there was something Barnes could trust.

“I’m not going to get myself killed,” Barnes looked ready to argue, so Tony added, “I’m _not_. Or I’m going to try not to.” Tony shrugged. “I’ll do my best, _but_ ,” he insisted before he could be interrupted, picking up his phone and wiggling it, “JARVIS will make damn sure.”

Barnes flicked his gaze to the phone. “You’re telling me to trust in JARVIS?”

“Well, yeah,” Tony shrugged. “He monitors everything I do. If he thinks I’m being too reckless, he’ll stop me.”

“And if you don’t listen?” Barnes asked.

“I’ll program him to go to you.”

Barnes eyes didn’t widen, but there was still something in his gaze that said Tony had shocked him. “You’d send your A.I. to me?”

“Yeah,” Tony only felt a little nervous about the decision, “sure.”

Barnes seemed to be thinking it over. “You and I have different definitions of ‘reckless’.”

Tony made a loud, annoyed noise; most was for show, but some was hiding genuine discomfort. He trusted Barnes. He also trusted Barnes to put a halt on a lot of things Tony _already_ did if he knew about them. He’d have to think fast and find a way to give Barnes what he wanted without compromising himself too much. That was okay; he was a genius and could totally do that. “When I get back to the lab,” he told the other, “we’ll go over the coding, decide on something we’re _all_ happy with.”

He eyed Tony for a long moment, obviously judging him for truth as well as weighing the offer in his mind. “I also get to place a tracer on you,” Barnes told him. “You wear it at all times until Laufeyson or any further criminals with a fascination with you are behind bars.”

“Barnes, do the words ‘tad’ and ‘excessive’ mean anything to you?”

“Do the words ‘recipe’ and ‘disaster’ do the same for you?”

Tony pouted slightly. “Harsh.”

“Accurate.” Barnes shook his head. “Between you and Steve, I don’t know how I’ll make forty.”

Tony waved his hand. “You’ll breeze into your nineties without a problem.” He smirked. “Maybe with a bit of mental scarring.”

“I thought I already had that?” Barnes quipped, and Tony felt the last of the tension fade out of him.

Things weren’t back to normal between him and Barnes yet, but they were getting there. He hoped getting back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the distraction of a new case would unwind Barnes and get him off the defensive. He enjoyed his friend caring for him, he just didn’t like the idea that he’d put up a roadblock between him and Loki.

It was a terrible thing, but if this conversation had done one thing, it had shown Tony that he wasn’t done with the criminal, not by a long shot. Loki had raised the stakes. He’d saved Tony's life and openly cared enough to do so. Now Tony had to do the same. How he was going to do that? Well, he’d figure that out once he got through his meeting with Fury. Oh, and once he figured out what everyone else was panicking over; namely, if he owed Loki something for saving his life, just what was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Howard is a good parent in this, I'm as stunned as you are. It just came out that way and I really liked it and suddenly it was a thing, heh. 
> 
> Also, yes, there's no Loki, but be patient with me. You'll get your fill soon enough ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Just a little note**. If you see anything in a foreign language/with an asterix beside it in my work, the translation will be at the bottom of the chapter/in the notes :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Arriving back at S.H.I.E.L.D was odd. Tony knew he was a valuable resource and was fairly sure no one in the organisation wanted to see him brutally murdered, but the amount of people who came to make sure he was okay and pass on their ‘ _if there’s anything we can do_ ’ and their ‘ _can we get you anything_ ’ was kind of staggering. Coulson had even emerged from the shadows to check on him. He’d got a nice hug from Darcy and Bruce too - when he’d snuck down to Autopsy to avoid Hill finding and dragging him up to see Fury, but the relief of escape hadn’t lasted long. Bruce had been determined to prod him, making sure he was fit to be out of bed and slinking around S.H.I.E.L.D. while Darcy was even worse: she’d had questions about Loki that he hadn’t want to go anywhere near answering. He’d escaped with minimal fuss, citing needing to see Fury as the reasoning.

He’d _planned_ to go to his lab and make Fury come to him, but he got intercepted on the way. He’d been in one of the halls lined with interrogation rooms - he’d been taking the stairs, avoiding the lifts, and using the camera’s blind spots to assist him from running into Hill - when his name had been called. “Mr Stark.”

Tony winced heavily, stopping in his tracks and quickly masking his face into something polite and jovial. “Mr Odinson!” He smiled as he turned, the Interpol agent closing the distance between them. He had a file in his hand and stopped not far from Tony. “Are you lost? I’d be happy to help, you know, inter-departmental relations and all that, but I’m running late for a meeting with Fury soooo.”

“I would believe your avoidance would welcome a reason for the action.” Tony blinked, and Odinson sighed, explaining, “You have attempted distraction and the evasion of your reporting - and I have a matter I must discuss with you.” He gestured at one of the empty rooms. “It is of grave importance.”

“It’s about Loki,” Tony corrected, done with beating around the bush and not planning to enter an enclosed room with him.

“Aye,” Odinson agreed. “As is what I said.”

Tony didn’t bother with mincing and twisting Odinson’s words. He let his eyes fall to the folder. He nodded at it. “You do realise I’m the cause of ninety-nine percent of the _accurate_ documents on Loki, right?”

“Not these.” He lifted the folder. “These document Loki in his youth. These are not official files; these are,” he closed his eyes, looking pained, “what were put together by myself and my father when it become obvious to us that Loki was the perpetrator of the crimes occurring.”

Tony’s hand tingled with the desire to reach out and snatch the file from Odinson. Tony had looked for information on Loki as soon as he’d found out the criminal’s former surname. There was almost _nothing_. Tony guessed it was a combination of Loki being very careful and their father squishing everything that might reflect badly on the family. He’d looked up the retired Chief Superintendent, and he seemed like a piece of work; hard, unyielding, disapproving. It reminded Tony of a bitter, older rendition of what Howard had been like when Tony was a kid. Tony had understood why Loki might have rebelled with petty crime. It had also made sense that if Loki discovered he was good at it and that he _liked_ it, he might keep climbing that ladder, arriving at where he was today.

“Sooo,” Tony drew out the word, “you kept all this away from Interpol and any other organisation that might find it useful out of, what? Family obligation?”

“No, Stark,” Odinson disagreed, an edge to his voice. “These were immaterial to anyone who was not a profiler. They were also inadmissible in court.” He swallowed, “and contained some of the few remaining photos that were taken by and include our Mother.”

Tony tried not to let the display of old grief affect him or remind him of his own Mother. He didn’t talk about Maria to many people but especially not to Odinson - particularly not when he was clumsily trying to either manipulate Tony or slander Loki. The second wouldn’t be difficult; Tony didn’t doubt Loki would have a plethora of actions Odinson could pick from. The manipulation of himself Tony would just watch out for; he might seem inept at it, but Odinson had grown up with Loki for a brother and that autocrat for a Father. There had to be _something_ in there that had helped him become an Interpol Agent.

“Right, sorry about your mother,” Tony threw out, offering the standard pity and distancing himself from his own compassion. Odinson looked a little irritated but not like he hadn’t expected something similar from Tony. “So what exactly is in that folder?”

Odinson put it between them, his voice lending gravity to the situation. “Loki’s past.”

This time Tony couldn’t resist darting out and grabbing the manila file. He ignored Odinson once he had it, flipping the file open and finding newspaper clippings, old photographs, hand written notes, and maps with numerous markings on them. Tony flicked through them greedily, his eyes catching on an obviously teenage Loki who had gone through a _punk_ faze. Tony had to try very, very hard to keep his amused smile from showing; the guy’s shirt was _pink_ , his hair was a mohawk that had _green and purple_ through it - and was that _black lipstick?_

“We had not known that he started so young,” Odinson began telling him. A finger came and pointed at a news clipping. Tony had to force his eyes away from a punk Loki to skim the article.

His eyebrows rose and laughter was bubbling near the surface again as he read. It seemed Loki had broken into some kind of prestigious club and pulled all the frames off the walls, leaving them on the floor, and using spray paint, he had stencilled Banksy pictures in their place. “Let me guess?” Tony asked. “Your daddy’s favourite club?”

“He was a member,” Odinson agreed with thinly veiled hostility. He abruptly pulled back some more documents.

“Wait, wait,” Tony stopped and moved some back to reveal what he’d briefly seen. “Is that your brother at _seven?_ ” It was actually easy to tell, there was a big ‘7’ on the cake he was blowing out. “What could he have _possibly_ done at that age that warrants mention in here?”

“He filled water balloons with paint.” Tony looked up, less at hearing what Loki had done and more at the slight change to Odinson’s tone. “Mother had laughed a lot that day. Father, less so.” He sighed. “Father credited it as a start of his deviousness.”

“He was a _kid_ ,” Tony insisted.

Odinson nodded. “Yes. Had he remained the prankster he began as...” he trailed off before shaking his head. “It does not matter. It was destined to become the way it has.”

“Destined,” Tony echoed, feeling the instinctive urge to pick at that, but he kept his mouth shut as Odinson went back to searching for whatever he’d wished to show before Tony had interrupted.

When he found it, he tapped the page. “It was but a few months after his vandalism that he created this virus.” Tony couldn’t muffle his snort in time. “It is serious, Stark!” Odinson insisted. “The school was out for an entire week!”

Tony raised his eyes to the agent’s. “And nobody was hurt and he was probably the hero of the entire student body.” Tony had also, once he knew the other’s surname checked (see: hacked into) Loki’s schooling history. “Five bucks says he was just bored.”

“This is not something to jest over!”

“Oh, lay off,” Tony told him, snapping the file shut. “The guy was a troublemaker as a kid. I could have picked that a mile away. Everything in here,” he waved the folder. “Is just petty crime and mischief. I thought you were going to show me early murders, something that might get us closer to him. This is just dumb teenage shit.”

“He was a criminal from his early teens!” Odinson insisted.

 _So was I_ , Tony very nearly snapped but swallowed the words down. It wouldn’t help his case to tell Odinson that a lot of his free time back then was hacking into things he shouldn’t have and getting a thrill when he never got caught.

He tried a different approach instead. “If your brother wasn’t a criminal now, tell me, how much of this would be filed under the mistakes of youth and a genius intellect? You and your father are grasping at straws and painting him something he _wasn’t_ at that point.” He shook the file again for emphasis, a little offended on a young Loki’s behalf. “He’s not a murderer here, he’s not a sociopath. He’s a kid with a creative streak a mile wide and probably a grudge against his father who he was going to act out against.”

“It does not change what he _became_.” Odinson argued. “It does not change this being the start of a path that took him here!”

“And I’m _not_ denying that,” Tony answered. “But _I’m_ saying he didn’t start out bad. He didn’t start out aiming for that, it’s just...” Tony trailed off slightly, something like realisation filling him, “where he ended up.”

Tony stared down at the folder with a sickened kind of shock. _That could have been me. That could have been anyone. Loki could have been anything, but he ran into the first place that he found that actually praised him._

“When did your mother die?” Tony asked, his voice a little hoarse. Odinson didn’t respond so Tony looked up at him, demanding, “How old was Loki?”

“Fourteen.”

Tony looked down at the folder, flipping it open and finding that picture of Loki with a mohawk. He looked older than that, maybe sixteen. He checked the date of the vandalism and did a rough calculation in his head; it mustn’t have been long before his mother died. Loki was harmless tricks and pushing against the boundaries his father had made. He hadn’t broken them when there had still been someone there to laugh with him. When she’d died, all bets had probably been off.

He barely kept himself from clenching his fist at the lines; the _parallels_ it was drawing in his head.

“I would have you keep this,” Odinson spoke, drawing Tony’s attention. “I think it would do you well to read it with more care and think on what I have said.”

“That Loki was a rotten egg from the start?” Tony snapped, a little harshly.

Odinson didn’t look angry, he just watched Tony shrewdly. “I am aware he has saved your life and that your judgment may be momentarily clouded by this recent action.” Tony knew his face shifted, ready to fight Odinson on _that_ , but the agent continued, raising a hand placidly. “I assure you, I am grateful it occurred, but Loki does nothing if not for his own reasons and his own logic. Be warned, Mr Stark, that his eye on you will not always benefit your future.”

“I think we already had this conversation,” Tony grinned without any good humour. “Don’t fuck the guy who kills his bedmates, right?”

Odinson’s eye twitched but he still gave one final remark. “Heed my words, Stark.”

When Odinson turned on his heel and started walking away, Tony knew it was childish but he still flipped the Interpol agent off behind his back.

He recognised that Odinson had intended to drive a wedge between Loki and Tony; set up a barricade with what _he_ believed was evidence of Loki’s inherent evil. What he’d done instead, was put a huge wall between Tony _ever_ liking or trusting the guy’s opinions on a person’s character.

Loki had been smart, different, alone, and oppressed, and Tony was betting he hadn’t had a single pillar of support since his mother had died. Tony could have easily fallen into the same spiral; maybe not with crime but certainly with drugs, alcohol, and bad decisions. The difference was he’d had a father who had stood up and taken notice - had changed to support him. He’d also developed his own sense of direction and had lost the need to rebel against his father when there were more important things he could have been doing instead.

Tony looked down at the folder in his hand and knew it was a bad thing, a stamp to his forehead that said _compromised_ far too clearly, but Tony couldn’t stop it. He’d looked into Loki’s past and had felt a wave of understanding, swiftly followed by an even more dangerous urge. He’d wanted to pull up an email with the criminal, to ask Loki about even more of his life and to congratulate him on all of the tricks that no one had ever taken the time to appreciate him for. Tony wanted to _know_ him, and that wasn’t something he could justify at all.

* * *

“Stark,” Fury barked, once Tony was seated, the door was closed and he hadn’t been able to avoid it any longer. “I’d like an explanation over what the fuck just happened.”

 _Yeah, well, so would I_ , Tony thought but didn’t say. He kept his lips firmly shut, because admitting what was painfully clear was the case would be just plain stupid. He was glad he’d been able to put Odinson’s folder in his lab before he’d been caught though, that would have only made things worse.

Fury however, realising the ever-talkative Tony Stark wasn’t about to speak, pinched the bridge of his nose. “You told us a month ago that he spoke to you outside your apartment.”

“He did.”

 _Protection_ , Tony remembered again. The word rattling around his head, purred out in Loki’s smooth and articulate voice - like keeping a grenade around for decoration.

“And you refused to tell us _what_ he spoke to you about.”

“I told you-”

“Yes, that it was just polite-fucking-small-talk, and I let that bullshit go because Laufeyson is insane, and you’re smart enough to know when you’re in too deep.”

“Ooh, was that compliment?”

“But this is the fucking _ocean floor_ that you’re treading on,” Fury yelled, slamming his fist onto the desk and making Tony wince. He regretted it when the facial tic pulled at the cuts on his cheekbone; Fury always did have a habit of making him react. Fury noticed the ache though and he let out another harsh breath. His voice was calmer when he continued, “He has an unhealthy fascination with you, Tony.”

He was tempted to be dismissive, but one look at Fury’s good eye made the words dry up in his mouth. He could only dodge this for so long around the Director. He swallowed instead and admitted, “I know.”

_And I have one with him._

Fury watched Tony for a long moment before nodding, content with his sincerity. He straightened from where he’d bent over his desk. “I’m pulling you off all cases even remotely connected with Laufeyson.”

“What!?” Tony yelped, springing from his chair and ignoring the way it jarred his still painfully sore shoulder and ribs. “You can’t do that! Who’s going to run tests? Who’s going to-”

“Miss Foster is more than capable-”

“I don’t _want_ Miss Foster working on-”

“She’s a damn good forensic scientist, and you know it, Stark.”

“That’s beside the point, they are my-”

“Laufeyson just assassinated someone because they were going to fucking _torture_ you!” Fury roared, making Tony’s mouth click shut loudly. Fury had stood as well and was glaring and clenching his fists on the desk, his shoulders were tense and his mouth was a fierce and thin line.

Tony swallowed. “The guy was just a competitor to him. It had nothing to do with me.”

“Bullshit,” Fury spat. “Ultron was obsessed with hating you. His vendetta was _personal_. We still don’t even know who he is, what his fucking name is, just that he wanted you _dead_. Laufeyson didn’t need to bother with him for months, years even, but he knocked off the man who was out to ruin and kill you _before it could happen_.”

“Okay, I admit that looks bad,” Tony tried, but Fury was having none of it as he dropped back down into his chair, looking exhausted and like the weight of being Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. really was sitting on his shoulders at that moment.

“He wants you alive,” Fury told him quietly, “out of everyone here he focused on you - he _recognised_ you were the one who was making the breakthroughs.” Fury brought his arms up so his elbows were on the armrests and his fingers were steepled. “We’re still trying to figure out if we have a leak,” he told Tony simply, “but at this point all we know for certain is that Laufeyson has a plan for you - and considering the usual destructive outcome of those goals, none of us want to see him fulfill yours.”

Tony did his best not to react; Fury was a trained investigator and the last thing he needed was for Fury to find out about Loki’s _particular_ interest in him and just how much they’d been communicating. He’d never hear the end of it. He also might be squirreled away into some kind of witness protection or a padded room; neither was high on his priority list.

“Do you understand the severity yet, Stark?”

“I understand you’re not about to drop it.”

Fury smiled like a predator, with full teeth and no humour. “You’re suspended from all cases that even _suggest_ Laufeyson and you’re to have an agent with you at all times.”

“What?” Tony squawked. “I don’t want a bodyguard!”

“I don’t want to interview for a new head of Forensics.” He growled before calming his features. “I would suspend you from active duty if I thought you’d listen, but the doctor’s said you _are_ physically fit enough for work so I won’t demand it.” Fury narrowed his eyes. “But you’re to go home. Now. You’ll have an agent at your door, and you’re only to return tomorrow for a session with a counsellor. Only when they clear you will you be allowed access to a lab.” He nodded towards the door. “Dismissed. Hill will escort you to the first agent on shift who will also take you home.”

“This is a _joke_ , right?” Tony demanded. “Haha, let’s all play a prank on the poor kidnapped co-worker. I’ll even admit you got me, candid camera all that jazz, just _give me back my lab_.”

“You’ll get it back when you and it are deemed safe.”

“When the fuck will that be?” Tony growled. “When the counsellor says I’m not going to break down at the sight of a syringe?”

“You’ll be working only when she clears you. When Laufeyson is caught or Agent Odinson deems it safe, then you’ll get your normal casework back.”

“Oh, great,” Tony snarled, ignoring his own mental health - he could always fake that - for the more pressing issue, “leave my fate in the hands of Mr Not-Brother.”

“You keep this up, Stark, and I’ll suspend you from all duties until he’s caught and put you in a fucking safe house for the time being.” _That_ made Tony shut up. He could see Fury resisting the urge to rub his temples. “Now get out before that becomes an outcome rather than a warning.”

Tony stood glaring for a long moment, but he knew Fury and knew the man wouldn’t be budged. Not now, maybe later. When he remembered how much he wouldn’t mind Tony getting himself shot if it meant he wasn’t annoying him. He’d wear him down and get his lab back; he gave it two weeks tops. The agent off his tail might take longer. Hopefully they’d realise that Ultron being dead meant he was out of harm’s way - not that Loki wasn’t still a continuing and more pointed factor – but he should still be able to manipulate his freedom from _that_. It didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking _pissed_ though.

Here he was thinking people would be happy he wasn’t dead. Sure, they had been when he first walked in the door, but what? Now all they could see where the downsides? You know, ‘ _a criminal protected you_ ’ and ‘ _we don’t know why he did it_ ’ and the no doubt favoured ‘ _why does he want you alive?_ ’ at least it hadn’t reached the ‘ _is he working for him?_ ’ line of enquiry yet; that was going to be a lovely addition when it showed up.

“You’re not suspected of involvement,” Fury told him, as if reading his mind. “You’ve been cleared and the department knows it. This isn’t a punishment.”

Tony laughed bitterly, running a hand roughly through his hair. “You have no idea what a punishment is.”

He didn’t give Fury a chance to respond before he was storming out of the room. He threw the door open, only getting further irritated when Hill didn’t react beyond a raised eyebrow.

This was going to be fucking bullshit.

He was glad he wasn’t dead, but he was _fine_. He wasn’t about to break down, and the threat had already been fucking dealt with. Why did they have to stall everything? He was the best forensic scientist, and they thought that, what? Loki saving his life would affect his ability to catch criminals? Granted, he might be _slightly_ biased now when it came to Loki, but half the fucking department was grateful to him for killing Ultron! Tony knew, just as much as everyone else did, that if Loki hadn’t been watching him, hadn’t been _intrigued_ by him enough to spy, Tony would have been dead. It was that simple. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been clueless to his whereabouts, and Ultron had been intending to draw out his death. Loki had stopped that.

Everyone was paranoid about what that meant for him; Tony owed his life to the man and despite all Tony’s bravado and yelling, there was a part of him just as worried about Loki’s plans for him as Fury and the others were. Loki liked him and fuck it all, but Tony liked Loki too. It didn’t mean that he was unaware of what Loki was capable of - no, Tony had seen that with his own eyes in the warehouse.

The problem was that he couldn’t find out what Loki’s goals were when he was _watched on all sides by fucking S.H.I.E.L.D_. Barnes and Odinson would probably be fucking ecstatic he couldn’t do anything, but Tony’s skin was already beginning to itch.

He’d been talking with Loki so constantly and had so many questions that he didn’t want to go back to the time before that. He didn’t want to be taken off Loki’s cases when he still needed to prove, at the very least to himself, that when push came to shove, when Loki committed a crime again, that he _could_ still give it his full focus and not hesitate.

Because yes, he did owe Loki his life, but he didn’t owe him his allegiance.

* * *

Tony spent a few days once he was cleared working in the lower labs; grinding his teeth at sharing the space with others and otherwise kicking up a fuss until he was allowed back into his own lab to work on other cases. The initial reasoning he’d been switched with Jane Foster was because her lab wasn’t equipped for tackling Loki’s myriad of crimes and that _he_ couldn’t go near them so he had to be somewhere else. He’d blown that out of the water by poking holes in the theories until Fury had just given in. He’d still had to share with Miss Foster but she was easy enough to deal with.

He even managed to get Fury to drop the ‘S.H.I.E.L.D flunky with him at all times’ order after the third day of locking them out of the lab. He hadn’t had any luck on the one outside his house yet, but he was still hopeful. Actually, he was more than a little _hopeful;_ try _fucking desperate_ as everyone, including the guards, were tip-toeing around him, giving him pitying and fearful looks. Loki’s name was whispered almost everywhere he went, and it generally just made him want to claw at the walls. It wasn’t like Ultron was an issue anymore turned out he _didn’t_ have any more flunkies and had been trying to usurp the Stark Industries throne.

Fury had made sure no one found out _exactly_ why he targeted Tony for that and just spun ‘crazed’ and ‘deluded’ and ‘had planned to kill anyone with a Stark name that could be the heir’. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that people cared too much about Loki to bother with the neutralised threat that was Ultron.

He’d taken to spending most of his free time - the cases he was given were _pathetically_ easy, and he swore the counsellor must have given him some kind of trigger warning - in the lab with Barnes while the agent lingered beside his shoulder as he coded JARVIS to the other’s specifications. It was an irritating process, mostly because he’d gone behind Barnes’ back so that only a handful of the lines of code would actually be accepted by JARVIS.

Yes, it was a terrible thing to do, but what Barnes didn’t know only helped him sleep better at night by thinking Tony was a little safer. He didn’t like lying to his friend, but he liked being restricted any further than he already was even less. Call him bitter and petty, but he didn’t like walking around with a Fury-ordered camera strapped to his butt.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but it was what it felt like with the agents lingering outside his apartment and monitoring what cases he received. He’d been about ready to rip his hair out until JARVIS had made a suggestion - a wonderful, brilliant and highly welcomed suggestion.

Tony had taken great pleasure drafting up the letter and emailing it to Fury. The Director wouldn’t be pleased, of course, but he couldn’t say no either. When Tony had walked out the door an hour and fifteen minutes later, the sun was shining and he’d also managed to slip his current S.H.I.E.L.D. issued tail.

 _Yup_ , he thought, breathing in the morning air, flipping the one fingered salute in the general direction of Fury’s office and making his way towards his car. _It’s a beautiful day._

* * *

His phone was ringing; Tony glared at the item where it rested near his feet. He was lying lengthways on the couch and had left his phone on the opposite arm; close enough that S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t accuse him of disobeying the list of orders he’d been given, but far enough away he could take suitable time in answering it - or ignoring, ignoring was good too. Frankly, he didn’t want to move; he was watching a Star Trek marathon with a scotch in one hand and taking his well deserved _days off._

The large chunk of the leave he’d demanded had come with conditions though, regrettably. He’d never taken anything but mandatory downtime since starting at S.H.I.E.L.D. so he had a _lot_ he could draw on, but due to the circumstances, Fury was paranoid. Well, Tony had never really bothered using them before, so he _assumed_ it was all paranoia. Originally he’d never taken time off (unless it was to see Howard and that was rare) because he’d have rather been in his lab discovering the answers to crimes. He hadn’t wanted to be on a beach somewhere bored out of his mind, but since S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken away that option he’d figured it would be easy to be bored in pyjamas at home than at the lab.

Granted, he still needed to be on call should they desperately need him, and he also had to tell them if he was leaving town, but otherwise, he was free as a bird. No cases to solve, no lab to play around in and - after the first two days - no agent at his door.

Dear God, he was really hoping Fury cracked before he did. He needed something interesting to do. He’d already gone through Odinson’s file on Loki, but it only ended up pissing him off. He couldn’t risk emailing the criminal when all he wanted to say was _have your brother and father always been assholes?_

It probably wouldn’t be a good area to tread.

Still, the phone was ringing quite persistently, and it made him perk up slightly as he lifted his head to eye the item. Maybe it _was_ Fury calling to beg him to come back and work on more interesting cases? Maybe there was some horrible and vicious crime they needed his brilliant skills to find the perpetrator for? The thought gave him just enough incentive to push himself into a sitting position to take the call.

It was an unknown number, but that didn’t bother him; it was true that the switchboard usually called him in, but so did agents and keeping track of their numbers was a laughable task at best. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents went through phones like they did coffee. There were just too many occasions that involved jumping in and out of water, being slammed into things, and having criminals stomp on the devices. It did cause him some amusement that they were all Stark Industries phones, that and the fact Howard always sent him the designs so he could easily hack into them if he needed to find someone. Maybe he’d even go see Howard if he got too desperate, at least now - unlike when he was a kid - Howard would actually make some time to see him.

Swiping the phone, he laid back down and began with a bored drawl, “You’ve reached the answering service of Isaac Stark. Please leave a detailed message that I have better things to do then get back to. If, however, you are Nicholas Fury, please kindly go fuck yourself up the ass and don’t try to call again later.”

Tony took a pause for breath only to feel a shiver go down his spine as a warm chuckle resounded from the other line. “Good day, Anthony.”

“Loki,” Tony shot up, sitting ramrod straight. “Why are you calling me?” _And how the fuck did you get this number?_ He had to swallow down the second question; he wasn’t going to give Loki the satisfaction. If Loki knew how to email him at S.H.I.E.L.D. and how to find him when he was in Ultron’s clutches, then a measly phone number was child’s play.

“I wished to enquire after your health,” Loki answered sounding nothing if not politely concerned, “I had not heard from you and a kidnapping can be a very dangerous thing.”

“Yeah,” Tony smiled grimly, still remembering the look of Loki - a little blood-splattered, a lot furious and very, very gentle, “but it turns out I’m just all kinds of lucky.”

“Oh?” Loki asked, mock confused. “Do tell?” His voice abruptly turned smooth and satisfied as if he couldn’t help being pleased as pie with himself. “Did somebody rescue you?”

“I don’t think I’d call it a rescue,” Tony answered.

“Hmm? Then what would you call it?”

Tony chuckled, it was a little dark, but Tony needed to test for himself just where Loki’s mind was at. “I’m not sure yet, but the haunting word ‘debt’ keeps making itself known.”

There was a long pause, and he wondered if he’d surprised Loki. When the other spoke again, it was with a quiet suggestion. “And what if it wasn’t? If there were no strings attached to the action?” The words were surprisingly devoid of Loki’s usually smooth teasing tones. Chronic liar as he was, Loki seemed to actually be trying for sincerity. Tony briefly wished he could see Loki’s face; his words were hard to decipher, but his face and actions always said more - a lot more then he probably wished to tell. “Anthony?” he prompted when Tony had been silent too long.

“Everything comes with a price,” Tony eventually informed the criminal, because he’d been thinking about it too much in the nights since he’d been back. Loki _had_ to want something from him - even if it was continued communication, it was _something_. He might have said he’d leave well enough alone in the car, but here he was calling Tony. He either wanted something from him, or Loki couldn’t stop himself from checking on Tony’s health. The second option as one of Loki’s motives just made Tony squirm.

He heard a sigh, and Tony’s cheek twitched, remembering the previous occasion when that breath had brushed his ear and neck. When Loki spoke next, it was sharp and demanding, “I wish to take you to dinner.”

Tony’s jaw actually fell open, and he was grateful he’d put the scotch down for the call. He would have mourned spitting the good stuff all over his couch. Even if it was a gift from a criminal. A criminal who had just asked him to dinner. “What?”

Loki let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Surely it’s not that confusing, Mr Stark?” His voice slipped into wry tones - the voice of someone already knowing an answer. “If you insist on a price than that is mine: allow me to take you to dinner.”

Tony swallowed thickly. _That emotion has to be faked_ , Tony thought a little frantically, but even as he did, he doubted it. Loki had gone out of his way to save his life, had sent him gifts, _thoughtful_ and _useful_ gifts and touched him with such care when he was injured. The contact had been minimal, but Tony had learned enough about Loki to know that the criminal never liked to show emotions that put him in a negative light. He abhorred weakness in himself. So what did this say? This request with the expectation of rejection? What did all their interactions say? Tony was a weakness Loki kept coming back to; Loki was a mistake Tony couldn’t stop himself from making.

Because Tony had to know better than to be alone at a dinner table with a criminal who could poison him. Surely he wouldn’t be that reckless? Surely he’d _like_ the idea that a rejection would upset Loki? Surely he wouldn’t want to go and speak to Loki again?

Well, a normal person might. Tony however, knew what he wanted. He wanted the chance to sit down for a few hours and pick that exquisite brain apart, to try and gain some answers. It was still a gamble though; death could very easily be on the horizon, and Loki could only be keeping him alive so that he could personally kill him, but Tony liked to think he knew the man enough to say that Loki didn’t want him dead.

_Yet, at least._

And sure, going there might make Fury murder him, but - and oh, how he loved loopholes - Fury had told him to stay away from Loki’s _cases_ , he had never said anything about the man himself.

Tony almost laughed at the situation; if nothing else, seeing Loki for dinner would keep his day from being boring. “Alright, but then we’re even. Also, I pick the place.”

The silence on the other line could be construed as nothing else but stunned; Tony swore he also heard a hitched breath. “I- yes,” Loki cleared his throat, and Tony found himself amused. “Of course, that is acceptable.”

“And we’d be even?” Tony wheedled.

Loki’s smile was audible. “Yes, Mr Stark, we would be.”

“Good,” Tony announced, cutting through anything further the other might say. He wanted this over and done with before he started thinking words like ‘date’. “ _Molte Mele D’oro *****_.” Tony told him, “You’re booking it,” he paused briefly to add, “and paying. I’m living on a budget.”

Because although he could _technically_ afford it, he was trying to live like he only had Isaac Stark’s job and income. It would be nice to have an excuse to go there even if it was with a criminal; the food was fantastic, and it was expensive and private enough to keep out the paparazzi. It wouldn’t stop anyone like the FBI from taking photos, but it would be a start.

“A budget?” Loki responded to him with a smirk. “How novel that must be for you, Mr Stark.”

Tony forced himself to keep his smile at bay. “You paying or not?”

“Of course I will, Anthony,” and Loki’s voice was far too soft, far too pleased. Tony did his best to ignore it and the tingles it gave him. “Will eight o’clock be suitable?”

Tony’s attention fell to the folder on the table and a slightly evil idea began to form in his mind, but he did his best to keep the mischief from his voice. “That’s fine.”

“Then I look forward to seeing you this evening, Anthony.”

 _You too_ , Tony thought but didn’t say as he ended the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Molte Mele D’oro_ = **Many Golden Apples** (because I am a geek)
> 
> Okay. **Let's talk Ultron**. When I wrote this story I only intended him to be a throwaway character, a means to an end, but everyone has kept _asking_ me about him. To go into great detail would have altered the story more than I was willing to risk, so it's only vaguely touched on in this chapter (and pretty much never again). So, because you've all been such darling commentors, I'm willing to offer the chance. If you want a bit more depth behind him, I'll reply in the comments, although I'm not sure how good it'll be :|
> 
> And second. To everyone whose been asking. I TOLD YOU LOKI WOULD SHOW UP AGAIN. And aren't you all just glad he did? ;)
> 
> The question of course is... what will the next chapter and this "dinner" bring?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, is served ;)

Tony thought very briefly about calling Barnes - prompted by JARVIS’ concerned suggestions - but he knew the Agent would only tie him to something in order to keep him away from Loki. There was a _reason_ he had been very careful with his coding; he didn’t want Barnes spoiling his fun. Tony also knew that the second he pulled something like that on Loki - tattled and deliberately sabotaged their communications - the criminal would be gone. It might even be the straw that made Loki break and actively try to harm him.

No, Tony was going to do this; he was going to have dinner with an unconvicted murderer. Oh, and he’d pay for doing it too; he was well aware of that. Loki hadn’t been able to hide his presence when he’d stopped Ultron because - if he believed Barnes - Loki was too _worried_ to think it through. The idea of that made Tony squirm but not enough to stop him. Tony also knew that he _might_ not be discovered out with Loki, but he wasn’t putting all his chips on that bet.

It would be worth it though. It had to be.

 _Well_ , Tony smirked as he eyed the folder he’d rifled through earlier, _at the very least I’ll get a laugh out of it._

“Sir,” JARVIS tried one more time, “can I persuade you to reconsider your decision?”

“You know me, JARVIS; when have I ever turned down a free meal?”

“Was it not the point of this dinner that ‘nothing comes for free’?” His A.I. stressed.

Tony shrugged a little. “So I just need to be charming enough that I don’t die. I can do that.” He made his way to the door. “Barnes’ tracker?”

Despite sounding disapproving, he still relayed, “Re-routed to make him believe you are inside your apartment. I will, however, switch it over at such time that I believe you to be in danger.”

“No believing,” he corrected the other, “actual danger only. I know you’ll be able to tell the difference, J.”

JARVIS didn’t respond, obviously unhappy with his decision, but Tony wasn’t about to let a little displeasure stop him. He’d set up enough of a net to catch him if this all turned to shit, but until that point, Tony was going to have _fun_. Well, maybe. At the very least, he was going to sit down and talk to Loki at a pre-planned time in a moderately stress-free environment about what the fuck they were actually doing.

He hoped it might help him figure out whether to keep this correspondence going or whether he should take Fury up on his safe house idea. Not that he _would_ , but he could always move back in with his father for a while, become the hermit the public thought he was. Stark Manor, thanks to their combined paranoia, was possibly the safest building in the United States. If Loki could break in there, he’d probably _earned_ the right to kill Tony.

It was his Plan D. He still had to get through A to C first before he was jumping on that last resort, but it was nice knowing it was there - assuming he could survive his father for that long a duration to make it useful.

“Sir,” JARVIS told him, obligated as he was but not happy about it, “if you do not leave now, you will not arrive at the time you desired.”

“Ah, right,” Tony nodded, grabbing his car keys. “Thanks, J.”

JARVIS didn’t deem his words worthy of a response, and Tony knew the A.I. would be in his phone regardless, monitoring him and his health the entire evening.

Leaving his apartment was a simple affair since he’d _finally_ lost the guard at his door and was able to walk around freely without ‘ _where are you going, Mr Stark?_ ’ or ‘ _I don’t think that’s wise, Mr Stark_ ’ and ‘ _I’ll need to accompany you, Mr Stark_ ’. Three was a crowd that Tony _sometimes_ liked to indulge in, but not since college and not on this particular evening and _definitely_ not with the lackeys Fury had been choosing for him.

His car was parked outside his apartment, and Tony had a brief moment when he stopped beside it, where he wondered if _Loki’s_ tail was still watching him. Tony had never been able to catch anyone - and he’d been looking - but he did always get the impression that there was someone there. He probably should have felt concerned, threatened, but he only felt oddly _calm_. Sure, it hadn’t helped keep Ultron from taking him, but Loki had _found_ him. Whether it would evolve into a danger in the future was up in the air, but for now, Tony trusted that he would be safe.

That trust didn’t stop him for checking his car for a bomb and having JARVIS surreptitiously scan it, but that was less about Loki and more generalised paranoia. When he was certain he wouldn’t be blown to smithereens, Tony climbed inside and started making his way to the restaurant. 

He couldn’t help smirking as he moved into a progressively flashier part of town. His car was extremely middle-class and his suit looked like something that someone of Isaac’s paygrade had saved and splurged on. In truth, it had been a decade long argument with his father who’d wanted to purchase him a suit for finishing his first degree. Tony had insisted he couldn’t blow his cover, Howard had insisted he needed Armani, and in the end his father had picked somewhere in the middle. Tony now made it a point of finding suits that would make his Father give a disappointed and pained sigh when he entered the manor in them. It usually meant they didn’t fit him well enough or were colours and fabrics that Howard’s eye twitched with the desire to burn.

Tony couldn’t wait to see what the maître d' would do when faced with him and his ‘off the rack’ suit. He knew places like this, he’d grown up in them and he wasn’t dressed as the clientele they thought they needed to please.

Pulling up to his destination, Tony did his best to quell his amusement as he reached the valets and gave them his keys. Focusing on their reactions and the frowns of the other guests was much easier than acknowledging the feeling not unlike nerves that occurred and increased with each step closer he took to reaching Loki.

He had only one couple in front of him when he stepped inside and they were quickly directed to their table by a waiter. The maître d' was a young man - his nose up, hair slicked back, and a contemptuous gaze that was everything Tony had been hoping for. He sent the man a wide grin.

“Can I help you, sir?” The man asked, but his tone painted the picture of what he’d rather be questioning: _are you in the right place?_

“There should be a reservation.”

The maître d' smiled banally. “Under what name?”

Tony was having too much fun. “Laufeyson.”

The way the man’s face lost all colour shouldn’t have entertained Tony as much as it did. “I, o-of course, sir. Right this way, sir.”

The maître d' actually left his post to direct Tony himself. Tony couldn’t help wondering if dropping and _proving_ ‘Anthony Stark’ might have given the same deference and hesitant fear; then again, neither he nor his father were masters of a criminal empire, so, maybe not. The maître d’ lead him away from the large dining room and the sounds of cutlery on plates and conversation. He gestured briefly to another server and sent her to the front podium to greet further guests before taking Tony to the bottom of corded off stairs.

He nodded at the _guard_ and pulled aside the red rope. “Mr Laufeyson is already present. You will be directed by your server, Alice.”

Tony looked back at the man. “So just up these stairs, huh?”

“Yes, sir. You will then take a left and she will be waiting by the door.”

 _Fuck_ , a little part of Tony screamed even as he dismissed the maître d’ and started ascending, _Loki’s made this more private than I expected._

It could only be good though, right? Less chance for anyone - say, _S.H.I.E.L.D._ \- to see them having dinner together. That was probably all it was: a means to keep their secret safe; it wasn’t anything like a desire for a more _intimate_ setting or anything. Right?

_Does it really matter?_

_No,_ Tony realised, _it didn’t._ He was here now, and he wasn’t backing out. Intimate or not, a way to kill him quietly or not, Tony was here and he was going to see it through. Straightening his spine, Tony made his way up the last few steps, turning where he’d been directed and spotting the knockout that was standing by the door. She could have been a model for all that Tony knew and he didn’t doubt for a _second_ the real reason they’d chosen her to look after Loki. He did his best to hide his smile. _Sorry guys, but you might have picked the wrong gender there._

The only problem with that thought was that it made Tony even more aware of himself and what this dinner might be to Loki.

“Good evening, sir,” Alice greeted him when he reached her. The smile she gave him seemed genuine, but you never could tell these days. “Your companion is already seated.”

Reaching for the doorhandle, she didn’t give him a chance to speak or prepare himself; she simply opened the door and stood to the side, giving Tony a perfect view of Loki and the other a perfect view of _him_.

Tony might have been nervous, but Loki, in the moment before he’d registered Tony, had looked downright despondent. He’d had his glass of red wine halfway to his lips when he’d flicked his eyes over and froze. His mouth dropped slightly in surprise before he hastily stood, his wine being placed back on the table as he greeted, “Anthony, good evening.”

_You came._

The words were never spoken, but Tony could hear them hovering in the air, audible in the sudden jerk of his movements and the hurried smoothing down of his shirt and tie. He made a gesture at the table, removing Alice from the equation as he took over the role of a host, “Please.”

Tony let his eyes fall over the table as he stepped inside. It was elegant, pristine, and expensive - everything a restaurant like _Molte Mele D’oro_ would pride themselves on. But Tony _knew_ these restaurants, and he could see a few very pointed things - specifically, Loki had gone out of his way to make sure the table wasn’t romantic.

There were no candles, no flowers. There was a centrepiece but it was less intimate - still exquisitely designed but nothing to indicate that the couple sitting opposite one another were on a date. It was very obvious that Loki had made a point of stating it in the reservation, probably in an attempt to make Tony less uncomfortable. Loki had gone to a lot of trouble when he obviously hadn’t been certain Tony would show up. Tony knew the time: he was early, and the only way Loki could have looked the way he had before Tony had arrived was if he’d been preparing to be stood up.

That, if nothing else, made Tony glad he’d attended.

Taking a seat, he watched Loki’s eyes flick to it, and Tony got the sudden impression that Loki was, through and through, a _gentleman_. He was the kind of guy who wanted to pull Tony’s seat out, open doors for him, and, _oh god;_ send him _courting gifts_. He was obviously restraining himself from the first two, but he had given in on the last. Why else would he fall to the temptation of coming tonight? There was so much that could go wrong. Tony tried to ignore the way his heart still sped up slightly.

“May I get you something, sir?” Alice asked, and Tony drew his eyes away from Loki.

“Scotch,” Tony answered. He had a feeling he was going to need it. Loki had sat back down and was now watching him avidly.

“Of course, sir,” she answered and after making sure Loki didn’t want anything further - he didn’t - they were left alone.

Tony licked his lips, not quite sure where to start. The only interactions they’d had in person was the threatening first meeting where Loki had kissed him - _don’t think about him kissing you!_ \- and the painful, and confusing murderous rampage that had saved his life.

Tony was feeling _awkward_ , okay? Sue him.

“I must thank you for attending,” Loki told him, breaking the silence.

Tony flicked his gaze up from the tablecloth. “We said this made us even.”

Loki’s face didn’t really move, rather it looked as if it wanted to frown or grimace, but he stopped it before the expression could get very far. “Quite, but it’s still a risk you would have been safer not taking.”

“Why?” Tony asked, leaning forward slightly and asking. “Are you planning to kill me?”

Loki blinked and an almost imperceptible smile crossed his mouth. “I have already saved you; it would be foolish to render the gesture so pointless this quickly.”

Smiling back, Tony nodded. “Yeah, I thought so.” He shrugged. “So there’s not much concern at all, is there?”

Loki caught Tony’s eyes, and they held the gaze for a long moment, neither of them mentioning S.H.I.E.L.D. and what it could mean for Tony if he was caught here. What it could mean for _Loki_ if his fellow criminals discovered his relationship with Tony and thought Loki was selling secrets the way he’d already sold out Hydra.

Neither of them mentioned how dangerous it was that they were here or what it said about them that they had both chosen to come anyway.

“No,” Loki eventually answered, “I suppose not.”

Any further response was cut off by a knock on the door and, when permission was given, the entering of Alice with Tony’s scotch.

“Would you like to order or shall I come back?” she requested once she’d placed the glass on the table.

Loki turned his attention to Tony. “I am aware of my order, would you like some further time?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Tony answered, already having come up with a preference over the day. He still skimmed the menu before deciding on a simple steak with sides. Loki got pasta, and they ordered some appetisers as well. Alice left with a slight bow of her head and the promise that she’d be outside should they need refills or anything further.

When they were alone once more, the silence came back, settling around them somewhat uncomfortably. Tony took a sip of his scotch and tried to think of a conversation starter. He had a million things he wanted to talk about but they were all fairly _heavy_ to just throw out before they’d even eaten some bread.

Loki was the one to break it again. “You look nice, Anthony.”

Tony snorted, he couldn’t help it. “Hah, liar. This is a shit suit and you know it.” He eyed Loki a little more thoroughly and judging by the way Loki’s muscles tensed slightly, he noticed. “ _You_ look good though.” He took another sip of scotch and found himself blurting out what he’d normally have JARVIS keep him from saying, “You always do.”

This time the silence was more surprised, but Loki soon smiled with something more genuine. “Thank you, Anthony."

“You really like saying my full name, don’t you?” He couldn’t help asking, a hint of tease in his voice.

“It suits you,” Loki answered, his eyes dancing with good humour as he continued, “and I like knowing I am one of the few who use it.”

“People who know my real name generally call me Tony.”

Loki just smiled a little more. “Even more reason to use Anthony.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony muttered, “Of course you’d be contrary.”

“I would hardly have intrigued you had I been ordinary,” Loki pointed out. Tony wanted to smile, but he knew it would come out a little forced. He saw the moment Loki realised he’d skirted them a little too close to their _professions_ and had made the light atmosphere they’d been developing falter. He almost tripped over himself to change the subject. “I am glad you’re healing well.”

Okay, not a great change of subject, but certainly one that reflected better on him; always easier to talk about how he’d saved someone’s life rather than took it. Although, he _had_ been the one to kill Ultron - and his men - but he’d done it to protect _Tony_. They both knew too, that Loki had wanted to do more damage to Ultron, but hadn’t had the chance. 

He could see Loki have a similar epiphany, and he winced, looking angry at himself.

 _This isn’t working_ , Tony thought, _but look how hard he’s trying_. It made him laugh.

Loki looked uncertain so Tony just smiled at the criminal. “I haven’t exactly forgotten who you are just because we’ve sat down to dinner.”

“Yes,” Loki grumbled petulantly, “but I need not remind you at every turn either.”

“Trying to make me forget?”

“Trying to make you more _comfortable_ ,” he stressed.

He looked so adamant that Tony almost felt bad. “It is going to come up.” Tony sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I have some questions,” he saw the way Loki’s face seemed to close up and he hurried to explain, “about you _rescuing_ me, about your protection. The other stuff... look, I’m not going to ask about that, but we need to talk about this thing,” he gestured at them, “happening between us.”

Loki looked at his hand, his tie, his cutlery, and finally Tony’s face. “Can we not leave it as it is?” Tony went to protest, but Loki held up a hand. “Until after we’ve eaten. We can speak about this after that, but for now, can it not be about something else?”

“But it’ll be after we’ve eaten?”

Loki nodded. “We may discuss it then.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed, enjoying Loki’s relieved smile before he said somewhat casually, “So, you never told me you had a punk phase.”

The way Loki’s face went quickly blank was just too funny. “What?”

Grinning, wide and mischievous, Tony pulled out the photo and held it between them for Loki’s inspection, watching the horror and mortification seep into the other’s eyes. “The lipstick’s a nice shade, very black.”

“ _Where_ did you get that?” Loki demanded. He tried to grab it, but Tony quickly ducked backwards, holding it near his shoulder while his other hand reached in and pulled out what he had to admit was his favourite.

It was an older, post-punk Loki and he was lying on the floor with the _fluffiest_ little puppy on his chest that was trying to lick his face. Loki was laughing, his face scrunched up and some adorable dimples showing. It proved, unequivocally that the big bad criminal had a soft spot for little baby animals.

“Same place I got this,” Tony answered evilly while Loki actually flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t know who’s more adorable: the ball of fluff or the kid cuddling it.”

“If you do not hand those over to me now, Anthony Stark,” Loki told him, voice serious and deadly despite the way his fingers were twitching on the table and his cheeks weren’t quite back to normal. “I will find a way to take them back myself.”

Tony gave him a wounded look. “But I _just_ made a place for them in my wallet!”

“Find something else to put there.”

Tony sighed. “Well there is the seven year old birthday party and the knitted sweater.”

Closing his eyes like it was all suddenly too much to handle, Loki wondered, “Does Thor have no sense of self-preservation?”

“Fairly sure he didn’t expect me to be meeting you a few days after I got the file.”

That made Loki open his eyes. “File?”

“Yeah,” Tony grinned and very pointedly raised his glass, toasting the other and his efforts. “Didn’t know you were a fan of Banksy.”

“You...” Loki trailed off, blinking and catching onto the fact that, no, Tony wasn’t condemning him for his youthful indiscretions; instead, he was complimenting them. Loki began to grin, Cheshire-like and full of mischief. “Have I mentioned to you how easy Thor was to prank in his youth?”

Tony matched the expression and leant forward, feeling the tension leak out of the air and be replaced with a teasing camaraderie. Two Tricksters with a mutual dislike.

“Oh?” Tony replied, “Do tell.”

* * *

The dinner was easier than Tony expected once the ice was broken by Loki recounting the many times he’d humiliated Thor in his youth. Tony added some of his own stories of tricking classmates and casually manipulating code to get what he wanted. He knew he probably shouldn't be confessing hacking to a criminal, but Loki was just as honest with admitting the cyber crimes of his teen years. It was all innocent tricks and guilty pleasures that soon morphed into other events: concerts they'd seen in their youth, movies they were fond of, and regrettable decisions that turned humorous in hindsight. 

It was fun, but as much as Tony had laughed and enjoyed the easy talking and delicious meal, the evening was coming to a close, and Tony couldn't ignore the main reason he had come here.

Loki sensed the change in tone too and took a sip of his wine, the cheer and good mood sliding off his face with some reluctance. He placed the glass back down and nodded at Tony. “You have questions.”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted. He’d changed from scotch to a combination of water and coke, knowing he’d have to drive back to his apartment. He almost wished he’d had more liquid courage to help him jump into this new discussion. Loki had been light on the wine so Tony knew the other was still as sharp as ever; there was no avoiding where this needed to go. “You’ve helped me more than once since we started... whatever this is.”

“A good conversation, I would say,” Loki described it, making Tony give him an unimpressed look. “Perhaps a little more than that,” he admitted. “I _do_ enjoy our correspondence and the battling that comes with your intellect.”

“But that’s not all.” Tony sent a pointed look at the table between them.

Loki pretended to ignore it. “You _could_ consider your continued survival an act of selfishness on my part? A desire for good banter?”

“You really going to insult the intelligence you just praised?”

Loki sighed. “What would you like me to say, Anthony? It’s rather obvious at this point that I am fond of you.” He tilted his head. “I think you must have at least warmed to me _slightly_ to be here tonight?”

“Maybe I’m just too curious for my own good?”

“Also possible,” Loki acknowledged, “but,” he moved slightly closer, “you seemed to take pleasure in my tales. Why do so if you dislike me?”

“I dislike Odinson more?” Tony suggested, but seeing the disappointed twist to Loki’s mouth, Tony allowed, “You’re not _terrible_ company. It’s just,” Tony let out a heavy breath and decided to lay it all out, so to speak, “you’re spying on me, you’re _stalking_ me, and I appreciate that it saved my life, but you appeared out of nowhere and suddenly declared me _interesting_ without giving me a chance to do more than _panic_ -”

“I should apologise for that first meeting,” Loki cut in, upsetting the good rhythm Tony had got going. “It was not... the best idea I’ve had.”

“Which part?”

_The kiss, the vague threat, or the fact you revealed yourself at all?_

“Most of it,” Loki admitted, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and Tony wondered if _he_ was remembering the forced, if chaste, kiss as well. “Not your protection, but my means of presenting the situation to you.”

“So what _exactly_ is this protection?” Because that was one of the finer points he needed to get laid out for him.

Loki waved a vague hand. “You are watched and danger is removed before it can find you.”

“What happened with Ultron?” Loki’s face went dark, his eyes pools of unquenched rage. Tony suddenly found it hard to swallow. “How did he get to me?”

“An error in judgment of the one meant to be observing you. It will not occur again.”

Tony decided to avoid the pointed finality of Loki’s tone. “Right. So, this twenty-four hour security, you’ve got going. How much does that _cost?_ ”

Loki shook his head. “None of this comes at a price for you.” He gestured at the table, a small, wry smirk curling at his mouth. “This was not necessary. This was just an advantage I couldn’t resist taking.”

“Already taking advantage of me, huh?” Tony asked, bringing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought you were a gentleman!”

“I’d walk you to your front door if your reputation wasn’t at stake,” Loki assured him.

Tony chuckled a little humourlessly. “I think my ‘reputation’ is well and truly shot.”

“Oh? So you would let me come to your door?” Loki questioned, an eyebrow raised.

Tony could read the hint of _more_ inside the tone. It was carefully watered down and probably would be passed off and unnoticed if Tony wasn’t very aware of the fact that Loki was attracted to him. Tony still didn’t know what to do about that. It wasn’t as if it was just lust; that he could brush off easily enough, it was something they could _both_ dismiss. But Loki’s expression when he’d first walked in, his subsequent care to keep the mood light and the way he was attentive to what made Tony smile and laugh, it all meant Loki was more than attracted - he _liked_ Tony, and that was far more dangerous to both of them.

He decided to ignore anything to do with it for the moment and keep to a light, joking mood, “If it wouldn’t have my babysitters dropping down on us? Maybe.”

“Yes, I suppose that could somewhat sour the mood.” Tony nodded, still pensive about the situation and running their conversation through his mind. “Anthony?”

He wanted to test something.

“If I asked you to stop,” Tony quietly began, watching the way Loki tensed and quickly sealed his face from emotion, “if I told you to stop watching me, stop contacting me, and never send me anything again. Would you?”

Loki hesitated and nervously bit his bottom lip before recognising the gesture and stopping it abruptly. He also took the final sip remaining in his glass to further hold off on answering. When he couldn’t stall any longer, he caught Tony’s gaze and told him. “I would cease my attempts to contact you, yes, but while I would personally not check on you or be given any details on your personal life, I would still maintain surveillance.”

“You would?”

“You might not wish to speak to or see me, but I would still prefer to make sure you are safe.” He drew up a smile that had lost its truthfulness. “Who else would come so near to catching me if you were gone?”

 _Liar_ , Tony thought, but he wasn’t going to say it to Loki’s face. If he did, if he pointed out that Loki was doing it for another reason, it would mean _stating_ it. It would mean asking just how much Loki cared about him, what he _wanted_ from him, and as long as Tony wasn’t asking, Loki wasn’t telling either. He was alluding, sure, they both were, but Loki hadn’t pressed any further than the first kiss - the one he himself had recognised was too brazen and was still trying to backtrack from.

Tony had gotten confirmation of most of the things he’d already figured out. Prying any further would just mean discussing _feelings_ and _desires_ and figuring out his own responses to those subjects. Did he want Loki to kiss him? To press closer and cup his face? To confess what he really felt while they took off each other’s clothes? Did he want to bed a criminal? _Could_ he?

He had no idea and staring too long at the subject just made him uncomfortable because, yes, Loki was attractive, smart, and almost everything he’d want in a partner, but they were still enemies. The line in the sand might have gotten a little muddled and he might already like the guy a bit too much than was smart, but pushing any further? He’d have to be damn sure of what he felt and wanted if he was going to break down that wall.

And he wasn’t sure, not even close.

“Anthony?” Tony blinked out of his thoughts to focus on Loki. He looked discomforted but determined, “Do you want to continue this with me? You discussed it with me as a hypothetical, but I would have your answer now: do you want to us to keep speaking?” Tony’s froze, his eyes widening as Loki continued, “I will leave you be if you truly wish it, but I want the truth: do you want me to stop talking to you?”

Tony knew what he should do: say yes and end their communication. He should end the gifts, the emails, and any more potential dinners he might be asked to in the future. Loki had said he’d still be protected, that he wouldn’t _lose_ by saying no, but it wasn’t true. Tony would lose. He’d lose Loki.

He’d lose witty banter and something to look forward to when he was having a shit day.

It might make him a bad person, it might make Barnes furious, but Tony was addicted to the other’s constant teasing, the presence that was only a quick email away. Tony should say no, should tell Loki that this had to stop. He _should_ do so many things, and they should _never_ have included attending this dinner or encouraging the messages between them from the beginning.

Loki might have made the first motion in this weird partnership, but Tony had been pushing it along every consecutive step of the way, dragging Loki closer with laughter and compliments. Yet here Loki was offering him an out - but Tony had already made his choice. He’d made it the second he’d selected a restaurant for them to have dinner at. When he’d shown up without S.H.I.E.L.D, or recording devices. When he’d seen Loki’s face brighten at his arrival and thought: _I’m glad I came._

“No,” Tony said softly, “no, I don’t want you to stop.”

The relieved, the _happy_ smile that Loki let cross his face showed the same dimples that had been visible when he’d been petting the puppy as a teenager. It didn’t last long before Loki ducked his head, making a point of straightening the knife and fork that had already been perfectly centred on his plate. “Well,” he cleared his throat, looking at Tony once more and presenting the suave and smirking man he pretended to be, “then I hope we might be able to meet again?”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “You want to have dinner again?”

“Dinner, lunch, a walk through a museum or one of your dreadfully loud concerts,” he waved his hand. “I do not care for the venue, I care for the company.”

“Oh, now you’re just tempting me to find out your old music collection. Let me guess: the Misfits?”

“Not _quite_ my style,” Loki admitted with a rueful smile. “But I think you’ll find the ones I listened to less likely to be performing currently.”

“Oooh, back alley bands? Couldn’t like mainstream could you? Had to be the _unknowns_ , or it wasn’t cool?”

“Thank you for bringing back memories of the dreadful choices of my youth.”

“I don’t know,” Tony grinned. “Punk Loki sounds hilarious and adorable.” Tony tripped a little over the last word, his eyes as wide as Loki’s at the term he’d just used. “Erm.”

“I’m sure he would have been charmed by you,” Loki answered after a moment, his eyes not quite reaching Tony’s. “A genius scientist with a smug smirk and mischievous eyes? Yes, I think he would have been quite smitten.” It was close enough to a confession to make Tony’s heart stutter and tumble, but any reply he could think off got caught in his throat and wouldn’t come out. Loki quickly removed the obligation and changed the subject, “Would you be happy for me to call you again? We’ve used emails before today, but I would still enjoy speaking with you more frequently.”

 _I’m just going to casually confess feelings and then ask to call you_ , Tony mentally converted; adding sardonically. _No, this isn’t a date **at all**._

“Is that really a good idea?” Tony asked, his voice a little rough.

Loki shrugged. “We’ve been flirting with danger quite successfully since we begun. I’m sure we’ll both take the necessary precautions to keep the correspondence quiet.”

 _You **really** want to call me, huh?_ Thankfully his brain-to-mouth filter seemed to be back up and running as he kept that phrase from escaping his lips. “And what happens if we _do_ get caught?”

Loki didn’t hesitate. “Blame it on me. Create any lie you find likely to be bought, and I’ll accept it. They can hardly persecute me any further should they catch me.”

“When they realise how much we’re talking it’s not going to be easily swept under the rug,” Tony disagreed. “I’ll get a suspension at best, fired at worst. Maybe even charged with aiding and abetting if they feel burned enough.”

“You haven’t done anything,” Loki argued. “You’ve fraternised with the enemy, but you haven’t broken any laws.”

Tony shook his head. “The right lawyer will call that treason, and you know it.”

“I doubt a Stark lawyer will ever let that happen. You know as well as anyone that a jury can be charmed and a law can be twisted. Besides,” Loki added, “as long as I have no convictions, you won’t have any either. You can’t commit treason if the person in question is, by all legal accounts, _not_ a criminal.”

Tony’s mouth tipped up in a smirk. “Always a way out.”

“I’m certain the same could be said for you,” Loki answered, matching his grin. “But,” and his mouth dropped, whisking away his emotions with it, “you did not answer my question.”

“Can you call me?” Tony guessed, receiving a short nod for the enquiry. Tony sighed a little, knowing he was far too intrigued and amenable to this man to resist. “Yeah. Yeah, you can call me, Loki.”

Loki smirked, but Tony could see far more was being hidden behind it; his eyes were too warm and danced with his delight. “Excellent.”

The conversation paused for a moment as they both searched out where to take it, but Loki soon let out a slightly wistful sigh, his eyes travelling over Tony as if he was committing his image to memory. “I don’t wish to bring this up.” Tony automatically tensed, wondering _what_ of the many subjects at Loki’s disposal he was about to select. _Don’t think about disposing things_. “But it is getting late, and I fear the longer we remain here, the less I will be able to hold that title you gave me of _gentleman_.”

Tony swallowed, his mind drifting to all the things Loki wasn’t saying but was laying out clearly in the purr of the word; the door of temptations he was displaying for Tony should he only want to grasp for it. Tony lost himself a little in thought, only snapping back when Loki stood, smoothing and buttoning his jacket as he did. Tony hurriedly got to his feet as well while Loki gestured at the door. “Shall we?”

Flicking his eyes to it, Tony asked, “What about us being seen together?”

“There is no clear line of sight by the stairs; I will depart from you there.”

“Right,” Tony agreed, reviewing the layout of the restaurant and confirming Loki was telling the truth. Loki had taken the time Tony had pondered to reach the door. He opened it with dramatic flourish, startling Alice who hurried to face them.

“Sirs? You have finished?”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “I will settle the bill once I have seen my guest to the entrance.”

“Very good, sir,” Alice answered, not daring to contradict him, and making Tony bite down a grin at the deference.

They walked silently down the hallway before turning to the stairs, Tony jerked slightly when he felt a faint touch to his lower back, he looked over his shoulder, finding the hand lingering a few inches from his jacket. He glanced up at Loki whose smile and gaze was faintly yearning, but at receiving nothing but his stare, Loki started to retract his hand slowly. Tony, before he could think or stop himself, made a faintly protesting noise in his throat.

Loki stilled before carefully bringing the touch back, a light, guiding presence that Tony found he was happy to indulge as they began moving again. It brought Loki slightly closer to him, and Tony’s eyes fluttered for a brief moment, the smell of his cologne wrapping around Tony and proving what he’d thought in the warehouse: _comfort_.

They reached the bottom of the stairs in short order, a level of disappointment noticeable in both of their gazes. “I had fun,” Tony found himself saying. “I mean, erm,” but he stopped his attempts at backtracking when faced with Loki’s sadly expectant expression. He narrowed his eyes a little and decided, ‘ _fuck it_ ' as he repeated, “No, you know what? I meant that. I had fun tonight, Loki. Thanks.”

“As did I, Anthony.” Tony was slightly distracted, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation at the use of his full name, but quickly noticed Loki closing the distance between them. Tony’s eyes flew wide and he was torn over what was about to happen. He felt his heart kick up, and Tony didn’t know if that was the desire to get away or the desire to pull Loki closer. The uncertainty was probably more than visible as Loki easily shifted his angle, making the movement seem natural and intended as he pressed his lips softly to Tony’s temple, lingering there a moment as if to take him in. “Stay safe, _Älskling_.”

Tony sucked in a breath as Loki pulled back. When he spoke his voice only wobbled slightly on the first word. He didn’t even know _how_ the other had such an effect on him after such an _innocent_ touch. “Did you just call me ‘trouble’ in another language?”

Smiling guilelessly, Loki murmured, “Perhaps.”

“I’m going to look that up when I get home,” Tony warned him.

“Then I wish you luck.” Loki's grin turned wide, making him look younger with the action. “I speak _many_ languages, as your files well know. I would be curious to see if you could decipher _and_ remember it correctly.”

Tony scowled, knowing the other was probably right. Loki had also whispered it too softly for the microphone in his phone - and therefore JARVIS - to hear clearly enough to translate. “You probably used a language we don’t know about too, just to be more difficult.”

“I’ll leave that for you to ponder,” Loki replied, admitting nothing either way. His eyes trailed Tony one more time. “Thank you, Anthony, for a lovely evening.”

Tony grinned to lighten the mood. “Thanks for paying. I might let you take me out more often if you do that.”

“I’ll make a point of offering such a temptation each time then,” Loki assured, a teasing lift to his lips.

Well aware of how easily they could get caught in their banter, Tony made himself resist throwing something back at the other. “Night, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Anthony,” Loki replied, and Tony didn’t stay for anything further; he nodded and turned on his heel, making his way back towards the front of the restaurant and the life he felt like he’d stepped out of for an evening.

He had in a way; for a few hours, he’d dropped Isaac Stark and picked up _Anthony_ again. The man with less cares, less responsibilities, and the kind of life that let him dine in fine restaurants with beautiful people. He’d had fun, he’d _enjoyed_ Loki’s company, and he'd given the criminal even more permission to pursue him.

A lot of people would call that a mistake, but Tony could still feel the brush of those soft lips on his skin and the careful hand pressed to his back. The way Loki kept checking himself, kept stopping from pushing too hard and seemed paranoid about keeping him happy.

Criminal or not, Tony hadn’t been treated like that in a long time, and he _wasn’t_ going to sour the night by second-guessing himself or thinking about consequences. He was going to accept it for what it _was_.

Tony just went on a date with Loki Laufeyson, and he’d _liked_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Älskling_ = **Darling/Dearest/Beloved** (Yes, everyone go ahead and coo with me XD)
> 
> **TheReilWay informed me that additional variations are "dearest" and "beloved". So feel free to make your choice on which he says/means with that ;P


	10. Chapter 10

Tony spent the next few days swinging between remembering the evening fondly and groaning into his pillow over how stupid he was. On the one hand, he’d had fun, nothing bad had happened to him, and Barnes hadn’t noticed he’d left the house. On the _other_ hand, he’d started to like Loki more, had admitted that what they’d shared was a _date_ , and damn well knew the criminal had feelings for him. Feelings he still didn’t know if he was anywhere near reciprocating.

JARVIS wasn’t being helpful either; he didn’t want anything to do with the situation unless it was informing Barnes and relocating to Stark Manor until Loki was behind bars. Tony, of course, ignored JARVIS’ suggestions and kept messaging Loki back. Because Loki had only waited a day before he’d messaged him, not emailed, not called, but _texted_ him. It had been surprising but now they communicated more times a day than Tony could count. It didn’t help that he was still on vacation so he had plenty of time and nothing pressing to stop him from answering the criminal back.

It was nice, actually, to have someone he could talk to about the inane and to trade snipes with. It had been a while since he’d had a friend he could do that with - and he made a mental note to email Rhodey again soon and catch up. The thing was, it had been four days since their _date_ , and Loki still hadn’t called him. They’d talked, a lot in fact, but despite Loki asking and hoping and _gaining_ his permission, there had been no phone call.

Tony tried not to admit how much it disappointed him.

It was stupid, but there it was, and despite having Loki’s number in his call log, Tony couldn’t bring himself to be the first one to bridge that gap. Besides, _Tony_ might not be working, but he had no guarantee that Loki wasn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt something he _really_ didn’t want to know about - or have to investigate.

He had almost been hoping for a distraction, something to keep him from calling the criminal - or worse, planning somewhere else they could meet - when his front door was roughly slammed open.

Tony had been in the kitchen at the time - making himself another pot of coffee before he went back to some specs Howard had sent him - when the sound had startled him. His heart automatically sped up, and he was reaching for the first available weapon before the furious voice registered, “ _Stark!_ ”

“Sir,” JARVIS announced, “Agent Barnes is here.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Tony answered, taking in a breath to calm down, wondering what had put the other in such a foul mood. The pot was still a fair way off finishing so he decided to see if he could figure out what had pissed off Barnes and try and, if not douse the anger, then medicate it with coffee and maybe some violent video games. He stepped out into the living room, finding the door shut, and Barnes pacing like a caged animal with a file in his hand. “And good morning to you too,” Tony greeted cheerfully. “Please don’t tell me you’ve broken up with Wonder Boy?” The look Barnes’ levelled at him actually made Tony want to take a step back. “Um.”

“I’m done with you, Stark,” Barnes growled, “I’m fed up with your _blatant_ disregard to my warnings, to your own safety, and to your loyalty to, fuck, not even S.H.I.E.L.D, your loyalty to _me_.”

“What-”

Barnes pulled open the file before smacking it on the coffee table. Tony only had to see the first black and white photo to go pale. “These were taken by FBI surveillance. Sharon, Peggy’s cousin, passed them on to me when she recognised you. They only caught this by accident as they were looking for the people set to be in there after you.” Barnes' voice was deceptively calm, hiding a hurricane of emotions Tony knew he was about to get battered with. “Sharon handed them over as a favour, said she got rid of the rest.”

“When did you get these?” he breathed.

“Yesterday,” Barnes answered, tight-lipped. “Looks like your _boyfriend_ isn’t as good at sweeping for bugs as we first fucking thought.”

Tony wanted to deny it, to say, _he’s not_ , but how the fuck could he? The FBI had caught it in black and white: Loki and Tony laughing and smiling and _sitting down together for a date._

Tony licked his lips. “I owed him for saving my life.”

“So you just _looped your location transmitter_ without even giving a _fuck_ about the breach of trust our friendship would suffer through? You chose him, a _known criminal_ , over our association? You ignored every god damn warning anyone could give you and walked in there without a care in the world? Christ, do you know what he could have _done_ to you?”

“I had a fair idea.”

“So you just went in there regardless?” Barnes fumed, puffing out a harsh breath through his nose. “Do you have a death wish we don’t know about?”

“No.”

“Do you want to get tried for treason or fired from your job for involvement with a world renowned criminal?”

“No,” Tony gritted out.

“Then what the fuck do you want, Tony?” Barnes demanded. “Because I sure as fuck can’t figure it out.”

Tony swallowed down the answers that wanted to come out: _I don’t know_ and _I can’t stop myself_ and worst of all, _I like him_.

Barnes closed his eyes in the face of Tony’s silence, sucking in breathes that were meant to calm him as he paced in front of the coffee table. “How much of the coding did you lie to me about?” Barnes eventually asked, stopping and looking at Tony. “The transmitter was a fabrication, what else was?”

“JARVIS will notify you-”

“At what point?”

Tony’s eyes flittered away. “Not _all_ of your parameters will be followed intrinsically.”

“He’ll follow them when _you_ say?” Barnes summarised.

Tony sighed. “I’m sorry, Barnes.”

“No, you’re not,” Barnes spat. “You’re sorry you got caught.”

“I’m sorry I needed to lie at all,” Tony insisted. “I just-”

“Wanted to keep playing your fucking games like they didn’t affect an organisation and the lives of the public? Loki Laufeyson is a _wanted and dangerous criminal_. When is it going to enter your skull that he isn’t someone you can play around with?”

“He’s not going to hurt me!” Tony snapped, certain of the words even as they fell out of his mouth.

Barnes didn’t even blink. “And what about everyone else? What about the people in his way? The people who threaten you? The people he’s been planning to kill since long before you _interested_ him? What about all the other people we _know_ he fucked over long before you started your little _tête-à-têtes?_ ”

“I don’t know, okay? I-”

“No,” Barnes stepped forward, his eyes furious and his face the coldest Tony had ever seen it when turned in his direction. “You don’t get to be _unsure_ or _half-hearted_ over this, Stark. He’s a criminal, and you’re a government official. You’re supposed to be putting him away not wrapping yourself around his finger. You have just been seen and photographed engaging with the enemy for no other reason than your own personal gain. You lied to me, and you lied to S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m giving you a week to come up with a better answer than that because if you don’t have one or you don’t talk to Fury in that time, I will.”

Tony’s breath caught, and his eyes dropped to the incriminating evidence strewn over his table. “You’ll take this to Fury?”

“This and every other bit of evidence I’ve been collecting on you two since he first came to your apartment.”

Tony’s eyes snapped up. “You’ve been documenting me,” he accused.

Barnes snorted, but it lacked amusement. “You’ve been corresponding with a criminal; the only thing that kept this from official channels was my friendship with you.” He tilted his head, and there was something hard in his gaze, something that Tony was pained to believe might hide his hurt and betrayal. “But I see that doesn’t count for much with you.”

“That’s not true, Bucky,” Tony disagreed, moving to take a step forward but Barnes just bent down, recollecting the files and avoiding Tony’s apologetic gaze.

“One week, Stark,” Barnes warned him. “Consider that the last piece of respect I had for you and whatever it was we shared.”

“Bucky-” Tony tried again, but Barnes was already shifting on his heel and leaving the apartment. The door didn’t slam this time; instead it was more softly closed, but that felt even worse than the noise of before.

 _Fuck_ , he thought. _Shit, I’ve fucked up._

Tony knew the series of defining moments that had shaped Barnes' life and knew that, of all the things he could have done to possibly fracture their friendship beyond repair, it was betrayal. Yet he’d done it without thought, and because of what? His positivity that he wouldn’t be caught? His unending fascination with Loki?

He’d known Barnes would be angry if he found out, he’d just somehow never expected it to be like that.

“Shit,” Tony whispered, sinking down on the couch with the heavy realisation that a timer had just been dropped in his lap.

_One week._

That was all the time he had to figure out himself and Loki before Barnes brought everything he’d collected to S.H.I.E.L.D.

_Well, fuck. I’m screwed._

* * *

Tony wasn’t sure what to do after Barnes left.

Panic sounded like a good idea but it wouldn’t help him in the long run. He ended up making himself the coffee he’d been planning before Barnes showed up. He went to pour a healthy dose of scotch into it but found his hand hesitating over Loki’s gift.

He gritted his teeth and turned from it, using the bottle he’d had before Loki’s gift-giving had entered his life. It wasn’t as smooth, but it was what he _should_ be using. He dumped a significant amount into his coffee - not even receiving a reprimand from JARVIS - before taking it to the couch. He took a brief sip while putting his head into his hand.

Tony stayed like that for an hour, running through options in his mind and getting more depressed and frustrated with every dead-end he found and every outcome that only lost him _something_. He didn’t know how to create a solution that kept him his job, mended his friendship with Barnes, and allowed him to continue speaking with Loki.

It always came down to either having Loki or having everything and everyone else.

The decision should have been simple. The decision had _always_ been to choose S.H.I.E.L.D when push came to shove, but here he was, standing on the precipice of everything he’d ever known, and he was _hesitating_.

Tony could have been stuck in that holding pattern for a lot longer, his coffee going cold and Howard’s schematics remaining without a response, but he was drawn from his useless contemplations by his phone ringing.

When Tony had received Loki’s number he’d been tempted to give the other his own personal ringtone. He’d decided against it in the end, not wanting to bring any more attention to the other than he could avoid. Tony had ended up calling him ‘The Misfit’ in his contacts and had been content with that. He’d been waiting to see that name light up his screen for days, so it made perfect sense that the _one_ time Tony didn’t want to deal with him, Loki would call.

Tony almost wanted to ignore it. He wondered if he could gain something back with Barnes if he did, but while his conscience didn’t have a problem with fucking over Barnes for Loki, it apparently twinged about _not telling Loki about the pictures_. Tony gritted his teeth while reaching for the device. “You are such a piece of shit,” he hissed at himself before answering the call, his voice harsher than he’d intended, “Loki.”

There was a pause on the line before he received a slightly confused, “Anthony?”

“That’d be me,” Tony answered, his voice coming out shorter with his frustration.

“... Have I called at a bad time?”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “Oh, you could say that.”

“Would you prefer me to call back?” He sounded so earnest, and it brought to mind the hesitant smiles of their evening together. _It’s not Loki’s fault._

Tony felt his agitation slip out of his grip as well as his voice. He leant back, tipping his head until it rested on the back of his couch. “No, Loki, it’s fine.”

“What has bothered you?” Loki questioned, and Tony got the feeling that Loki would do anything in his power to fix whatever problem was troubling Tony. It was a shame it wasn’t something that Loki could wave his hand and sweep aside like magic.

Tony wondered if he should ease Loki into it or just drop it onto the criminal; _it was nice while it lasted, but we can’t see each other anymore._ Tony closed his eyes and sighed. “I just had a co-worker stop by.”

“And?” Loki asked with an edge to his voice that could mean anything, but Tony didn’t bother to try and discern it.

“And the FBI was expecting someone after us.”

It didn’t take Loki long to understand as he quickly cursed; the words were foreign in nature but vehement and spitted in a way Tony was very familiar with. “What did they get?”

“Pictures,” Tony answered, “didn’t seem to be any recordings. The FBI contact said everything was destroyed beyond what was passed on to my friend.” Tony closed his eyes, wincing at how much that title might not apply anymore. “Not like we were doing anything illegal.”

“Illegality is not the issue here,” Loki easily pinpointed. “What more occurred, Anthony?”

Tony chewed on his lip before admitting, “He’s angry at me. I lied about where I was and that combined with everything else...” Tony sighed. “He’s given me a week to bring everything we’ve been doing to Fury or he will.”

The line was dead silent; he couldn’t even hear Loki breathing. Tony sat up a little, feeling a tendril of fear begun to unfurl. “Loki?” he asked, worried. “You’re still there, right?”

“Yes,” Loki spoke, sounding deceptively calm. “I am.”

Tony still couldn’t shake that worry, feeling it grow with each passing moment until he couldn’t help nervously saying the other’s name. “Loki?”

“Yes, Anthony?”

“You’re worrying me,” Tony admitted. “You sound...” _like you’re planning to kill someone_ \- but that probably wasn’t a good thing to suggest in case Loki wasn’t but suddenly got _ideas_ , “like I should be getting concerned about what you’re going to do.”

Loki let out an audible breath, but Tony couldn’t depict the emotion that was behind it. “I have no plans to harm the agent that gave you this information. I _will_ look to see if any others maintain copies of it, but that is merely a safety precaution.” He stopped briefly in his list before asking, “What do _you_ plan to do, Anthony?”

“Me?”

“You have been given an ultimatum, and as it concerns me and how I will address the agents who arrive at my door, I would be grateful to hear your decision in advance.”

Tony dropped his eyes to stare at his still half-filled cup. “You think I’ll tell S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I think you have little choice,” Loki answered, “taking a level of responsibility for your actions and confessing would be more likely to work in your favour than doing nothing.”

Tony gave a bitter laugh. “So, what? I should walk in there and hand over my pocket knife and the scotch? Bring the records of our emails and messages for Fury to glare at? Do you _really_ think giving them any more than Barnes has is going to help rather than damn me?”

“Pleading guilty and spinning a web of misinformation is _far_ more likely to gain you nothing but a suspension,” Loki argued. “Tell them you planned to sneak into my good graces and betray me, it may yet be _true_ , and it will save you further persecution than what you would gain beside me!”

“I’m not just going to throw you to the fucking wolves!” Tony snapped, standing up and beginning to pace, trying to work off his agitation. “It was just as much my fault as yours, I suggested the damn restaurant!”

“And I did not search well enough for surveillance,” Loki rebutted, his emotions cracking through his voice and showing how furious he was with himself. “I cannot alter this mistake, but I _can_ keep you from further censure.”

Tony clenched his fist. “Loki, you can’t just-”

“I _can_ ,” Loki snapped. “I can’t remove the photos from his possession without gaining your ire and I have no doubt your _agent_ has taken precautions. The best _I_ can do is advise you to spin any lie you think will assist you, _regardless_ of what it does to me. I will then search out any further copies and destroy them.”

Tony had stopped moving during Loki’s impassioned speech where the criminal casually threw himself on a sword for the sake of Tony’s well-being. It made Tony nervous for an entirely different reason. “And what does that mean for us? This communication? Everything? If I tell Fury, he’ll monitor me even more than before, he’ll kill anything that even _looks_ like you to stop it coming close to me.” Tony chuckled darkly. “If he doesn’t fire me on the spot.”

“If he fires you,” Loki spoke quickly, the words almost tripping over his tongue, “and you return to Stark Industries, he will not be able to stop me from seeking you out again.”

Tony blinked. “What? Wait,” his stomach dropped and his heart froze, “was that your _plan?_ ”

Was that what Loki had been trying to do? Discredit him to keep him away from the labs and remove him from ever being a threat to Loki’s empire?

“ _No_ ,” Loki fervently assured, “I swear that was _never_ an intention of mine.”

“Then _why_ even mention it?” Tony demanded, “Why-” Tony stopped as something occurred to him and he went over the conversation again just to make sure. “You... you want that outcome.”

“ _No_ , I-”

Tony spoke over him, “You want that outcome because that’s the only way you’ll be able to see me in public and keep talking to me without the threat of me losing my job. Barely anyone knows you’re a criminal, and no one can _prove_ it either way. So if I wasn’t part of the team hunting you, there would be no repercussions to me knowing, dating, or even fucking you. You’d have everything you wanted.”

“I wouldn’t have your happiness,” Loki disagreed quietly but firmly, his voice cutting through Tony’s anger like a knife. “If you lost your employment with S.H.I.E.L.D., you would resent me for putting you in that position. The idea that you would agree to see me when working at Stark Industries was an unlikely one brought on by my own desire for this not to have shattered my attempts to know you. It was foolish to mention, and I apologise. I did not intend to make you think this is a result I desire. It is _not_ , and had I means of stopping this that would not displease you greatly, I would be acting on it.”

Tony had been silent throughout Loki’s speech, hearing the edge of a desperate desire to be _believed_ tainting every word of it. Loki was a known liar, Tony knew that, but he also knew Loki seemed to be carefully choosing his words in all their interactions so that he could tell the _truth_. He avoided topics that he couldn’t do anything but lie in. He answered questions without a falsehood or by dancing around them and moving to something else so he wouldn’t need to. Tony had _watched_ it happen, had been subconsciously aware of it their whole association.

He knew it _could_ be one great lie; one further way to pull the wool over his eyes by leading him down a path that looked innocent but would take him to his doom via sweet words and deliberately spouted truths, but Tony, fuck it all, _couldn’t believe that_. He also couldn’t believe that Loki wanted him working for S.I. and out of forensics. Loki had found and been intrigued by him _in spite_ of his career; hell, it had probably been his best feature when they’d first started talking.

The problem was that the lines had blurred now - and more than that, Barnes had walked right in and put them on the spot, the kind where Loki was telling him to save himself and let S.H.I.E.L.D. tear Loki to pieces - which they could have done easily, if Tony and Loki hadn’t both avoided any sensitive information from passing between them. But, no, nothing in their communications would give S.H.I.E.L.D. any leverage at convicting him. All it would do was show an entire government agency that a criminal had become ensnared by their top forensic scientist - and that said scientist, might have started growing a soft spot for the criminal too.

“Fuck,” Tony hissed, running a hand through his hair and barely resisting the urge to punch the wall. “ _Fuck_.”

“Anthony-” Loki began.

“Shut up,” Tony grumbled, “yes, fuck, I believe you, but that doesn’t help us _now_.”

Loki was silent before he replied, “Blame me. Tell them you intended to use this to curry favour with me. You were planning to manipulate me and were caught before you could get anything of significant value. I doubt they would be surprised by your cavalier and unsanctioned approach.”

“What?” Tony couldn’t help a brief, harsh smirk. “You’re saying that having me do something stupid and dangerous wouldn’t be news to them?”

Loki didn’t respond to the brief humour. “You have my involvement in your kidnapping to use as proof of your success in my...” Tony swore the next words were through gritted teeth, “susceptibility to you.”

Tony wished he could see Loki’s face. “And what happens to you?”

“Me?” Loki asked. “I find them something else to focus on.”

“And what happens when they’ve focused on something else, when I’m off the radar and you’re back to what you _haven’t_ been doing while we’ve been talking? And don’t think I haven’t noticed that.”

He could hear the smirk in Loki’s voice. “I’d assumed you had. Do tell me, how is the young woman doing with those old cases you so stubbornly believe I’m involved in?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Tony snapped. _Don’t remind me of what you used to do._ “What happens if I do this and we stop talking?”

“I do believe you answered it yourself,” Loki told him, his voice noticeably hollowed. “We cease to speak.”

 _That’s not acceptable_ , Tony thought, his mind practically screaming it against his skull, but his lips were pressed together, not letting it escape. “That’s it?” he said instead, “We just shut up and give in?”

“Tell me, Anthony,” Loki said tiredly, “did you expect this to go very far? We’re as separated as a Capulet is from a Montague.” He chuckled bitterly. “And while I doubt it likely, I still don’t want you anywhere near their fate.”

Tony frowned heavily, the names ringing a bell but not one he could currently recall. He’d look them up later, if he remembered. “Loki,” he said sternly, “I didn’t expect this to go _anywhere_ when you first showed up and I’ve put a lot on the fucking line for this because I was too _curious_ and you’re a _genius_ and it was worth it to keep talking to you, and now I-” Tony hesitated. He caught on the words, but also realised that because of Barnes' and now Loki’s own decision to sacrifice himself, this could be one of the last chances Loki talked to him. He stiffened his spine and made himself admit, “I _like_ you, and I don’t want to see this fuck you over when we haven’t _done anything wrong_.”

Which, okay, that was a _slight_ stretch to the truth. Technically, they hadn’t broken any laws. He _might_ have broken some of the ones in the S.H.I.E.L.D. handbook somewhere, but who paid attention to that? He might have also gone in to willingly speak to Loki, but fucking hell it wasn’t like he’d _helped_ the guy commit criminal acts. They’d _both_ been careful. The worst S.H.I.E.L.D. could accuse him of was bad judgment and yeah, it might make working there difficult since everyone would be out for his head, but _he wasn’t in the wrong_. Hell, Loki had saved his life. A criminal had done a good (if selfish) deed because of him. How was it a bad thing?

Sure, Barnes was angry because Tony had lied to him and because he was a friend who worried. Sure, Tony _got_ that, but why did this have to be more complicated than it was? Tony was smart, Loki was smart, and they were _friends_. Sure, one might, sort of, maybe, be falling in love with the other and also criminal, but that was just bad luck, and Tony wasn’t handing out any favours, he would still do his _job_ and find evidence against Loki if there was ever any to find.

How was _he_ persecuted when the guy’s own family member was allowed to walk around and still work at Interpol?

_Because you made a choice knowing full well who and what he was. You made a choice to become friends with him anyway, even when you knew you shouldn’t._

“Anthony?” Loki said softly, and Tony blinked back to the room. He found he was grinding his teeth and forced himself to stop.

“What?”

“I never thought you would grow to like me, and I’m gratified to hear that. We might not, as you said, have done something illegal, but it still remains a behaviour S.H.I.E.L.D. will not tolerate.” He sighed. “Did your agent specify whether it was a week from today or until the end of the current one?”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “He didn’t say.”

“Err on the side of caution,” Loki decided. “It’s Monday, treat it as Friday being the day you need to report to your Director by.”

“And what about us?” Tony asked, “We’re just going to stop everything after we hang up?”

Loki paused for a long moment, obviously running scenarios through his head before softly asking, “If you’re amenable, it would run no greater risk to keep speaking over the next few days. You can say you didn’t wish to alert me to the revelation you were about to make as the reason for our continued emails and,” he hesitated, his voice rising in a question, “phone calls?”

“Four more days of talking?” Tony suddenly felt like it was hard to swallow, like every muscle was as tense as a bowstring. “And then we’re done?”

Loki sounded tired when he agreed, “There’s no other option, Anthony. If they keep you working they’re going to be watching you in a manner even I can’t easily circumnavigate. It will be best for you if we stop.”

“And what about you?” The question slipped out before Tony could stop it.

He wished he hadn’t spoken when he heard Loki’s response. “Oh, don’t mind me, Anthony.”

It wasn’t the words that felt like a punch to Tony’s chest, it was the way they were spoken, they _sounded_ like Loki’s normal teasing smirk was present. They _sounded_ like it was his usual bored, amused tone, but Tony could hear something sad underneath them. Tony hesitated to say _broken_ because a part of him still couldn’t believe someone could feel that level of desolation at being deprived of him, but the level of it aside, Tony couldn’t deny that Loki wasn’t going to cope as well as he said he was.

“I can’t just ignore-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “You can. For your own best interests, you _will_.”

Tony scowled. “That’s a low fucking blow, Loki.”

“I will aim wherever is necessary if it gets me the response I want.”

“I still don’t like this.”

He could hear Loki’s soft smile. “If you come up with anything over the next few days that will work and allow us to continue talking, I will greatly accept it.”

“Was that a _challenge?_ ”

“No,” and he heard something that sounded like Loki shaking his head, “a hope, at most.”

Tony sighed, the fight sliding out of him to be replaced by something he didn’t want to acknowledge was sadness. “This sucks,” he said a little petulantly.

“Yes,” Loki chuckled lightly, “it does.”

Near enough to the couch, Tony flopped down on it, letting out a puff of air with the force. He closed his eyes, not sure what else to do but feeling all together drained. It suddenly occurred to him there was something he hadn’t asked and his eyes opened. “Hey, why did you call me anyway? You obviously didn’t know about this before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki dismissed easily, “it’s not something that will be possible any longer.”

It took Tony a moment to work it out. “You were going to ask me out again.”

“Not something,” Loki repeated with that same dejected but hard tone, “that will be possible any longer.”

Even if it hadn’t been true, Tony was fairly sure he would have said it anyway, just so he could imagine Loki’s surprised smile. “I would have said yes,” he confessed, “if you had.”

There was the faintest sound of something Tony was going to believe was a hitched breath. It made Tony smile slightly. “It’s a shame then,” Loki murmured, “that I couldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed just as quietly, “it is.”

They didn’t speak much more after that. Loki had photos to try and track down all the evidence of and Tony had a speech he had to prepare for Fury. It wasn’t what could be called a cheerful goodbye; if anything, Tony felt like they’d just agreed to walk down a corridor to their own firing squad. Tony wished there was something he could do to change that, but he wasn’t coming up with any ideas. In four days' time, he was going to have to lose Loki.

All Tony could feel, as he stared at the ceiling, was a deep-seated knowledge that something important was slipping through his fingers with every second - and he couldn’t find a way to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ducks flying projectiles*
> 
> Erm. Sorry? 
> 
> XP


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through now! Omg. This is both exciting and a little sad. Still! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the ones to come!

It took the better part of a day for him and Loki to get back into the swing of speaking again. Their first few texts felt awkward and weighted by the time limit that was pressing down on them. Loki was also distracted and when asked about it, he simply muttered something about FBI agents being ‘ _not what they used to be _'. Tony didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one, and frankly, he didn’t want to talk about the agency that had unknowingly fucked him over.__

He’d quickly changed the subject and tried not to think about the _other_ thing he was avoiding, or more accurately, what was avoiding _him_.

Barnes hadn’t come and seen him again _nor_ messaged him. Barnes wasn’t a frequent communicator, but Tony was at least used to a message or two during the day if Barnes couldn’t come see him at the lab. It was usually to mock Barton or to make a smart comment about someone who’d came up in his latest investigation. The silence now was pointed and was something Tony desperately wanted to break but didn’t want to try doing only to be rebuffed.

He ended up walking around his apartment feeling guilty and frustrated and unable to find a solution to alleviate either. JARVIS had tried to help. He’d even assisted with running possible solutions despite not wanting Loki and Tony to continue their communication. The support was nice even if Tony wasn’t sure he deserved it.

The other problem was that an answer that kept him with both Loki and Barnes was looking less and less likely with ever hour he devoted to finding it.

He was halfway through Wednesday, drinking coffee and feeling himself go prematurely grey as he stressed over the coming Friday, when he had an unexpected knock on his apartment door.

Tony looked up, frowning heavily at something that _rarely_ happened. He didn’t move, just called out suspiciously, “Hello?”

“Stark?” The bizarre voice of Steve Rogers asked, “Can I come in?”

Tony got up slowly, wondering if Rogers had come to handcuff and take him away. Rogers had been to his house twice: once to pick up Barnes after a night of too much drinking, and the other when Loki first visited him outside his apartment. The idea he was here now could only mean Barnes had lied and hadn’t given him the full week. Tony grimaced and felt his heart sink, but he couldn’t deny Barnes had the right. He lied to him; only made sense Barnes wanted to pay him back.

“Stark?” Rogers called again, sounding concerned.

 _Right_ , Tony thought, _concerned I might do a runner._

He thought briefly about Loki, wondered if he should send a message in warning, but the fact Rogers hadn’t kicked the door down made Tony think he could wheedle a phone call out of him before he was taken to S.H.I.E.L.D. He might not call Loki directly, but he could call Howard and while on the line, have JARVIS relay a message to the criminal. He just had to stay on Rogers’ good side and appeal to his universe-sized soft-touch and large heart. He could only do that though, if he came off on the right foot.

Keeping that in mind, Tony checked the eye-hole just in case - Ultron, if nothing else, had made him cautious as fuck - and was surprised to find the agent alone. Still, it was better for him if Romanoff wasn’t around; she wouldn’t let Rogers melt at some pleading and wide eyes. She’d just trip him up, cuff him, and put a gag in his mouth.

Well, don’t spit in a starving man’s porridge, he supposed.

“Hey, Rogers,” Tony said, pulling open the door. He flicked his eyes around the hallway, trying to spot another agent.

“Bucky didn’t come,” Rogers said sadly, making Tony dart his eyes up. He still wasn’t able to stop the small wince his friend’s name inspired. “I’m sorry,” Rogers seemed to stumble for a moment before deciding with, “Stark.” He then laughed a little. “I see why Bucky calls you that now.”

Tony narrowed his eyes, confused and suspicious. “I’m sorry, why are you here?”

Rogers looked awkward; Tony swore if the agent had a hat, he’d be twisting it in his hands. “I know you’re fighting with Bucky over something and that whatever you talked about the other day didn’t go well-”

He barked out a laugh, leaning against the doorframe slightly. He wasn’t sure if he could stand otherwise. _Barnes hadn’t told Rogers_. Tony didn’t know what to think of that, but he felt an overwhelming wave of relief. Rogers had paused over the sound he’d made and Tony elaborated, “Our friendship is on the rocks, Rogers. If this was a beached whale, we’d be on an isolated, empty stretch of sand, dying.”

“He’s not going to want to throw your friendship away,” Rogers assured, his hand coming up to gesture emphatically. “Bucky can have a temper, but it’ll pass. He won’t want to lose this, no matter what he says.”

Tony smiled with self-deprecation. “I fucked up, Rogers. Barnes isn’t going to turn around and hug me after this.”

“You don’t know Bucky like you think you do,” Rogers argued, “if you think he’ll give up on a friend.”

“You don’t know a _thing_ about what we fought over.”

“I know Bucky looked like hell when he came home after talking to you.” Rogers shook his head. “You don’t look like that when you fight with someone you don’t care about.”

Tony looked away, feeling the guilt start gnawing like a hungry wolf at his bones. “You look that way,” he whispered, “when you fight with someone you’ve given up on.”

“Hey,” Tony startled at feeling Rogers hand land on his shoulder. He looked at the agent. “Bucky doesn’t give up easily.” He smiled a little. “I can say that with a _lifetime_ of experience behind it. When he’s got his hooks in you, they don’t come out for anything.”

 _What about betrayal?_ Tony wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring himself to say. Rogers looked so earnest, but more important than that, Barnes hadn’t told him. Maybe it was because he promised Tony he’d have a week, but maybe there was some other reason involved too. Tony wasn’t going to burst Rogers' bubble _or_ be hauled into S.H.I.E.L.D. early. The least he could do was keep his mouth shut and let Rogers believe whatever Barnes had or hadn’t implied to him.

Tony ran a hand over his face, giving himself a moment to compose himself and his response. “Thanks, Rogers.”

Rogers was smiling when he glanced back. “Just give him a bit of space. The last few weeks have been stressful for everyone. I’m sure that’s partly why he snapped at you.”

“Well,” Tony answered, with dry, bitter humour, “you’re not wrong.”

“He’s taking it out on others at S.H.I.E.L.D. too. It’s why I wanted to come here - to tell you it’s _not_ just you, okay?”

 _No, I believe it’s entirely me._ “Sure.” He said instead of what he was actually thinking, “Thanks, Rogers.”

“Of course,” Rogers answered before gesturing at the lift. “But I better get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Enjoy the rest of your time off, Stark.”

“Sure,” Tony answered with fake enthusiasm and heavily watered down truth, “I’ve got a hell of a weekend planned.”

Rogers grinned, wide and full of the good humour he carried around like car keys. “Maybe when everything settles down, we could have you over for dinner?”

And _there_ was the earnest guy who just wanted Barnes happy and the approval of Barnes' ‘family’. Tony was glad Barnes had at least one person in the world who wouldn’t fuck him over. Barnes would probably need Rogers’ support in the coming weeks when everything got spilled out all over the floor.

“Sure, Steve,” Tony agreed, amused despite the situation when Rogers looked a little surprised at the usage of his name. “You and Barnes know my number.”

Rogers agreed and left not long after, an extra bounce in his step now that his duty as boyfriend and tentative friend was completed. Tony shut the door once he’d disappeared and leaned his head on the wood for good measure.

“JARVIS,” Tony called, his voice slightly muffled by the door. “On a scale of one to Hitler, how bad a person am I?”

“I do not believe I would call you a bad person, sir,” JARVIS answered.

Tony shifted until he was leaning with his back and head against the door. “Oh, yeah? What am I then?”

“Occasionally misguided.”

“So Loki was a mistake?”

JARVIS paused for a long moment before replying, “I did not say that, Sir.”

“What?” Tony asked, “You, the biggest advocate for the cessation of our communication, are now saying it was a _good_ thing?”

“Mr Laufeyson has performed no known criminal actions since speaking with you. His association has also improved your happiness and general wellbeing. His interference was also instrumental in saving your life from a dangerous and unstable individual. I am inclined, upon reviewal of these facts, to deem Mr Laufeyson and your association a benefit to you both.”

Tony could only stare at nothing as he absorbed JARVIS' declaration.

“Holy shit,” he eventually got out around a bubble of pained laughter, “of course you approve the _moment_ I can’t have him anymore.”

“I still believe you should not associate with a known criminal while an employed member of S.H.I.E.L.D., especially when you are keeping the liaison secret from friends and colleagues.”

“But?”

“There are no ‘buts’, Mr Stark. They, his illegality, and your continued safety are my only protests on the matter.”

“So you’re struggling on the same things I am, huh?” Tony murmured.

“Sir-”

“No, JARVIS,” he cut his AI off. “Not right now.”

Tony had a lot to think about, and just like before Rogers came and spoke to him, he was nowhere near closer to figuring out what to do.

* * *

It was Thursday afternoon when JARVIS forced Tony to get out of the house with the threat of continual country and western music playing over his speakers. He was determined that Tony bought some food instead of ignoring his hunger for the sake of still - unsuccessfully - trying to find a different solution to the problem.

He had tried to tell the A.I. that takeout was an option, but he’d been drowned out by the sharp twang of a banjo and had run for the cover and safety of his car. He’d ended up at the Trader Joes he usually frequented, walking the aisles on instinct and murmuring casual hellos to people who recognised him. The action of such a normal routine was actually rather calming and while he didn’t have any epiphanies or feel hugely better, the change of scenery had settled his mind.

Tony wasn’t sure what kind of miracle he could pull out in less than twenty-four hours to stop it from happening, but he didn’t feel absolutely desolate anymore. The life he’d had last week might not be his tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be _over_ ; he could still manage to keep certain aspects one way or another. He might get Loki and Stark Industries, or he might get S.H.I.E.L.D and Barnes. It was a flip of a coin, and it all depended on how Fury let it land. He just had to accept that he couldn’t have both - that one way or another he was going to lose something and someone.

Tony found it ironic that it took standing in a queue to buy groceries to come up with that simple conclusion.

It was only when he was on his way out to the car that everything went to shit.

Tony was only a few spaces down when a large explosion rocked the ground and made Tony’s shoulders jerk up to his ears. He spun around to see a fireball a few aisles away where a car used to be. A few moments later, the same noise could be heard again as another erupted in a different direction.

“What the fuck?” Tony yelled, barely hearing his own voice over the screams, honking horns and general chaos that had erupted over the explosions. “Shit,” he hissed and dropped his bags, he didn’t know which direction would be best to go in, and he certainly wasn’t a doctor, but he had standard medical training and knew a thing or two about bombs. People were flying down the same lane he was in, running for their cars and their lives, and Tony went to step in the opposite direction than their fleeing. He was already reaching for his phone when a hand clasped his arm. He spun on his heel in order to face whatever stranger had grabbed him but he almost tripped over his own feet in shock, _“Loki?!”_

The criminal was grimacing heavily. “Anthony.”

Tony looked down at the firm hold on his upper arm, his eyes darting to Loki’s unsurprised face, and his mind rapidly making connections he didn’t want to make. “You...?”

“No one will be injured,” Loki assured him, “the cars were empty and nothing more than a distraction.”

“From _what?_ ” Tony demanded.

Loki looked frustrated and upset, and neither were emotions he wanted Loki to be wearing when confessing to _making car bombs_. “I am truly sorry, Anthony. You have no _idea_ how sorry, but it’s the only option I have.”

“Option? What option?” Tony started to struggle, wanting to get away from Loki, but the other wasn’t budging.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you let me go, you-” Tony snapped his mouth shut, looking over his shoulder when new hands took hold of him. He increased his struggles at finding a large man twice the size of Odinson behind him like a human-tank. “Get the _fuck_ off me.”

“He will not hurt you,” Loki told him, finally dropping his hold but also coming closer. Tony tried to kick out with his feet but Loki was too fast and before Tony could react they were inches from each other. Tony kept trying to free himself, but he wasn’t oblivious to the pained pinch to Loki’s eyes. “If I had any other way, Anthony, it would have been done. I’m sorry.”

“For wh-mmph,” Tony’s words were smothered by a cloth that was placed over his mouth and nose. His eyes widened with horror and betrayal as the unmistakable stench of chloroform was pressed against him.

Tony struggled even more furiously, but there was nothing he could do as despite his best efforts the drug started to take effect as he breathed. It didn’t take him long to start falling to it, but he was conscious enough to feel himself lifted off the ground as they began moving. Loki was ordering, “Disable the tracer on him and leave his phone and any other technology. I want him clean but uninjured. If any of you touch him more than necessary, I-”

The rest of the threat faded into an indistinguishable blur as he lost conscious, the cloth being removed and something soft touching his face. He might have heard another apology, but it might have just been his mind repeating the same, alarming words from before.

* * *

Tony woke up groggy and confused. His face was pressed into a soft pillow, and his mouth tasted like the bastard child of death and decay. It reminded him of very, very bad college days he’d hoped to have learnt his mistakes from.

It took him a long moment, buried in the bedding before his mind started firing and flooding him with memories of what had happened, or more, specifically, _what Loki had done._

He pushed up onto his arms, noting bedding utterly foreign to him and spinning into a seated position. Loki was just inside the doorway, watching him sleep like a fucking _creepy person._

“Where the _fuck_ am I?” Tony snarled.

Loki sighed, looking utterly remorseful and despondent as he stepped further into the room despite Tony narrowing his eyes warningly. “An undisclosed location.” Tony went to protest, _that is not fucking helpful_ , when Loki continued, “I doubt you would believe me if I did tell you, all things considered.” Well, Loki had him there - being _kidnapped_ did put a bit of a strain on their _budding relationship_. “I _am_ sorry, Anthony.”

And that made all of Tony’s hackles, his hairs, and his panic rise as he imagined scenario after scenario of just what the fuck Loki had to be _sorry_ about. Of course, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “...Why?”

“People other than your agent have become aware of the photos and my... fondness for you. They have decided you are a weak spot to be exploited.”

Tony, unfortunately, could read between the lines. “They were going to use me to get to you.” He hissed before murmuring emphatically, “ _Shit_.” Tony could picture all the kinds of people who would want to hurt Loki and all the ways they would hurt Tony in turn if they thought it would create the desired result. Fuck, it was like Ultron all over again, and Tony shuddered. “ _Shit_. And if they got me, they would have succeeded, wouldn’t they?”

_We both know you care so much that losing me would really pain you._

Loki didn’t dart his eyes to the side or flush or give any other reaction that would have given himself away, but that was the problem, it was the complete _lack_ of it that said just as much. He had been waiting for the question and had held himself carefully still as he responded, “Well, we certainly won’t allow them to find out.”

“So you kidnapped me instead,” Tony deduced, not that it was hard. A dark, windowless room and waking up on a _bed_ \- thankfully without any chains attaching him to the furniture - was a pretty good give away, but it still made his stomach twist knowing he was alone with a criminal who found him attractive. Crap.

“A temporary measure,” Loki assured him. “Just until this misunderstanding is... straightened out.”

Tony didn’t _not_ like the ideas that conjured. “Right. Fuck. Right.” Tony looked down at his lap - he was still in the clothes he’d gone shopping in. The sheets below him were black and expensive and fuck, what if this was Loki’s _bed?_ Tony swallowed. “Say, not that I want to put ideas in your head - pretty fucking _anti-ideas_ in this area actually - but any reason why you put me on a _bed?_ ”

He flicked his gaze up to Loki, nervous despite himself. He only felt a little bad when he watched realisation get followed by the tightening of the skin around Loki’s eyes. It looked pained and upset, but Loki was also the guy who had kidnapped him, so... “I put you there so you would wake in as much comfort as possible.” He paused, his voice going softer and he definitely sounded disappointed, “I am many things, Anthony, but a rapist is not one of them.”

Tony knew that. Well, he knew there’d never been anything pointing in that direction and that Loki had always been a gentleman with him, but then again, Loki was smart, and Tony was sure he could find a way to hide it if he needed to or it suited him.

He held that green gaze for a long time, weighing up everything he knew about Loki, everything he’d thought about Loki five hours ago, what Odinson had told him and how Loki had behaved in their past interactions. It helped that his instincts weren’t screaming at him to get off the bed and pick up the nearest sturdy item. His self-preservation wasn’t fantastic, but it was usually great around people who were out to kill him. Loki also did look genuinely gutted that Tony had asked. It was probably going to be a mistake, but Tony allowed himself to relax minutely. “Okay.”

Loki’s shoulders very noticeable lost some of their tension. “Good. Thank you.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t me trusting you, Loki. I don’t trust you as far as I can flick a rubber band at this point. I just don’t think you’re lying about this.”

“Ah,” Loki’s smile was bitter as hell, “yes, I did know this would damage everything.”

“Yeah, it did,” Tony snapped. Looking down at his hands - grateful that this kidnapping didn’t come with thick manacles - he clenched them. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”

Tony smiled humourlessly. “Chloroform doesn’t last that long.” He eyed the other. “Sedative?”

Loki hesitated before giving a brief nod. “I needed to be able to move you quietly.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Tony growled.

“If there was any other way-”

“You said that,” Tony interrupted. Glancing back up at the other, Tony had intended to snarl some more furious words at him but he was brought up short by a realisation. “You look nervous as fuck.”

He was vaguely bemused for a moment. Here _he_ was, the prisoner of a criminal - ostensibly for his own protection and he was going to _confirm that_ \- but he wasn’t particularly afraid. Angry? Oh yes, he was that. Loki’s assurance he wouldn’t be touched untowardly and his own memory of Loki’s threats to his henchman had also decreased his anxiety - but, Loki? He looked ready to crawl out of his skin or cringe back from Tony. It was a... weird look on him.

Loki took a moment to choose his words. “Merely reasonably cautious.”

“Oh?” Tony found himself spitting poison before he could stop himself. “Why is that? Because you have me right where you want me? Because you might have to touch me, and I might jerk away? Because that’s wrong,” Tony smiled with teeth. “I’m more likely to punch you in the fucking face.”

“I’m sure you will,” Loki agreed with a soft sigh. “I’ve put you in a position where you would fight me to your last breath despite holding nothing but disadvantages here.” There was a self-deprecating edge to his smile when he continued, “You know, you would be far better and more likely to damage me if you pretended; if you resisted and then feigned acquiescence until you found a long enough moment of weakness to execute your attack. I could be dead in an instant and your organisation would no longer doubt your loyalty.” He paused, painting and holding the image in both of their minds. “But no, I suppose you would rather die fighting.”

“You seem awfully hopeful you’ll get that acquiescence.”

Loki shook his head. “No. I assure you; no matter how pretty, I do not want to swallow that lie.”

Eyeing the other, Tony let some of the tension uncoil as he asked, “Then what do you want?”

“Your safety.” Loki didn’t come any closer but Tony could see the desire to in the way he shifted slightly. His hand also twitched like he wanted to gesture emphatically to add further weight to his words - or maybe he just wanted to reach out and touch. “That is all I want now, Anthony.”

“And the moment I’m safe, you’ll let me go?” Tony pressed.

Loki didn’t even hesitate, he nodded. “The moment I know you won’t come to harm over me, you will be released.”

Tony rolled the words through his mind, searching for any possible loopholes. “And what happens to me while I stay here?”

“You will be treated as my guest,” Loki assured. “No one but myself knows _exactly_ where you are and only my most trusted know that I have you. I’ll be here most of the time, but when I’m not, you’ll be left to your own devices.” He grimaced. “I know it isn’t ideal, but it’s the best I can do for now.”

“You’re not afraid of me escaping when you’re not here?” Tony’s eyes flicked to the corners of the room. “Or, let me guess, I’m being filmed?” Loki wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes, and Tony couldn’t resist even when he knew it was a bad idea. “Are you hoping you’ll get some late night entertainment out of it?”

Loki jerked up, a glare entering his eyes that was half angry and half hurt, but Tony _swore_ there was a slight tinge of colour to his cheeks too. “I would like to believe you trust me enough to respect your privacy.”

“I trusted you not to _kidnap me_.”

“I had no _choice_ ,” Loki argued, his voice rising with his emotions before he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. Tony didn’t know why he did; the outburst was one of the few things he’d done that made Tony more inclined to believe him. “I had no choice,” he said quieter, his eyes desperate to be understood. “Anthony, I swear I wouldn’t have if there was any other way.”

Tony didn’t want to believe him. He wanted to hold onto his rage and direct it at the very convenient target that was in front of him, but fuck it all, Tony _couldn’t_. Tony had spent months watching Loki take baby steps towards him and jump backwards at the slightest hint of his displeasure. Loki had also been furious and upset over what Barnes had found out and was threatening to do - but not enough to do something like this. Loki would know it would be shooting himself in the foot rather than gaining him the guy he wanted. No, Loki was smarter than that. Barnes - if he’d been here - might have been warning him that Loki was presenting a double-bluff; that it was all just a facade, but Tony couldn’t accept it. Not when the guy was looking at him like that. Not when Loki was putting himself in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s firing line so obviously.

“Fuck,” Tony cursed. “Fuck. Okay, who’s after me?”

“You...” Loki’s voice was light, stunned, “you believe me?”

Tony wasn’t up to smiling just yet, but he did nod. “Yeah, Loki. I’m not happy, but I get that it’s not your fault.” He narrowed his eyes. “Even though I can _bet_ you’re secretly going to take advantage of it.”

“I wouldn’t touc-”

Tony held up a hand. “Ah. Not me. _It_. You’ve already said you’re going to.” Loki frowned, uncomprehending and irritated. “You’ll ‘ _be here most of the time_ ’?” Tony found his grin working after all. “I don’t think you were planning to hole up here before I became a part of the furniture, were you?”

“I’m merely going to be here should you need anything,” Loki told him, lying through his perfect little teeth.

Tony was tempted to press at it, but he was also coming to terms with the fact that he had no idea how long he was going to be here and that Loki _did_ have his life more or less in his hands. The accommodations were _definitely_ better than Ultron, and Loki was no doubt going to make him as comfortable as possible, but he was still stuck here. It was a safe house without the government, and Tony had never done well when someone told him he _couldn’t_ do something. Case in point: _Loki fucking Laufeyson._

Well, no use planning for his inevitable snapping; maybe he could learn _how_ much danger he was in and that might add as a deterrent.

“So, you going to tell me what we’re up against?” Tony questioned. “Or you going to keep me even more in the dark than this _lovely_ windowless bedroom? Personally, I’d prefer the team up option.”

Loki’s eyes suddenly lit up like someone had set his insides aflame, and Tony was very confused until he ran the words he’d just said back again. _Oh. We. Team Up_. Loki’s smile was so ridiculously _happy_ like he’d just been given a surprising but well coveted gift, and his voice was soft with it. “Of course, Anthony. I could- although,” He tilted his head. “how is your stomach? You were given something for any nausea, but would you like anything?”

“Water,” Tony answered without thought. “Toothbrush. Toothpaste?”

“Certainly, I have amenities supplied.” He gestured with his hand towards the door. “Would you be capable of getting up? I can lead you to the bathroom and, if you wish, through a tour of the house?”

“You’re still going to answer my questions?” Tony pushed, focusing on the most important part.

Loki’s mouth quirked, but although it hinted towards his usual smirk, the warm satisfaction of _we_ was still radiating out of him. “I had prepared things should you want to know of them. They’re in the living room.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed and carefully got up and off the bed, pleased to find he didn’t spin or want to be sick. “Alright, we’re good.”

He took careful steps, but when his condition didn’t plummet, he nodded and began to follow Loki. Despite his words to the other, Tony still had to acknowledge that a part of him was going to be dubious for a while. There was also still a voice that was warning him to _not fuck up, stay on his good side_ but beyond that, Tony was going to take a leap of faith and put his trust in Loki. He didn’t have a huge amount of choice anyway, but giving the guy the benefit of the doubt was still screaming the loudest to be heard, aided by a warm place in his chest he wasn’t too keen at examining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter, but look! what! happened!
> 
> Come on darling readers, how did you like _this_ twist of fate? ;)


	12. Chapter 12

It was extremely disconcerting to be shown the dissection of criminal organisations that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been hunting for years some that Tony hadn’t known _who_ to pinpoint as the leaders but who Loki had listed like contacts in a phonebook.

The whole situation was just... discomforting.

Loki had taken him to the bathroom as he’d requested. It was slightly awkward to be left to open his toothbrush and toothpaste when there was already a green one sitting in a cup beside the basin. Apparently Loki’s safe house only had the one bathroom, and they’d have to share it. The room had a shower and a bath and was fairly spacious, but it didn’t stop Tony from noticing all the _brands_ that littered the place. The house had obviously been at least somewhat lived-in before Tony had been brought inside. He’d picked up some hair product and deodorant out of curiosity and noted that they felt at least half empty.

When he’d finished, Loki had given him a tour. Tony’s _room_ \- for lack of a better word that wasn’t _prison cell_ \- was at the end of the hallway with the bathroom a little further down. Loki had also bought him some clothes which had been an interesting and not _awkward at all_ discovery. There was a second room attached to the hallway, but the door to it was shut. Loki had told him quietly that it was his room before hurriedly gesturing him along. Tony had needed to resist the urge to just push it open regardless and look inside.

The hallway ended by opening into a room to the left that was filled with books and armchairs. It had obviously been turned into a study and shared a door with Loki’s bedroom; Tony supposed he liked the idea of multiple exits. The front door was directly opposite the hall, but Tony could see almost an entire line of deadbolts and locks. He wasn’t getting through that any time soon unless he picked up a mallet. Opposite the study was the living room with an attached kitchen and breakfast bar with a laundry and back door down a separate hallway from the kitchen.

The house was pretty simple - much bigger than Tony’s apartment but still not as grand as he’d expected from Loki. He supposed the fact it was a safe house had made him restrain himself, but Tony could still see the expensive hallmarks of Loki’s furniture and decor. It seemed he wasn’t going to compromise himself on _everything_.

Tony had only really given everything a cursory glance as he’d quickly zeroed in on the coffee table that was covered in folders, a closed laptop, and a second open but powered off one. The second was also connected to a series of monitors stacked on another table further to the left. It looked like Loki had his very own makeshift control room. Tony knew his face had done something bordering on horrified incredulity as Loki had shrugged a little self-consciously and murmured, “I need to find who are after you as soon as possible.”

Tony had decided not to ask and just enjoyed the technology. He’d taken a seat and after Loki had presented him with a refrigerated bottle of water, they had sat down to try and comb through the evidence while Loki explained what he’d already done.

It brought Tony to his current state of feeling disturbed by the amount of information Loki had. He knew Loki had different, more _informative_ channels than Tony - his files on Hydra had been proof of that - but this was something else. He had a list of bent cops and federal agents. He had charts on who was double-crossing one criminal for another. He had _starred_ beneficial people to befriend because they had contacts across numerous organizations. Loki knew who had a grudge, who could be blackmailed, and the times a person would be without surveillance and alone. Tony tried not to draw conclusions about that last one.

Tony had needed to beg out of hearing anything further after an hour. Loki had looked a little sad but also understanding - but he didn’t get it in the slightest.

The position that kind of information was putting Tony in was perilous. Tony was being shown information he _shouldn’t_ know, _couldn’t_ know. It would be inadmissible in any court of law and useless to pass onto Barnes; furthermore, it gave him an idea of how Loki functioned of _how_ much of a puppet master he truly was. Tony could see how far his reach was, how easily he could snap a string, tangle others together, and bring an entire empire down. Loki knew how _everything_ ran and had allies, in one way or another, _everywhere_. Tony didn’t doubt that whoever was trying to harm him was going to meet a fucking _brutal_ end the second Loki knew of them. He’d wait, poised like a snake until he knew exactly how many he needed to eviscerate and then he would strike. 

_Had he not been so close and able to harm you further, that would have been the least of the things I would have done to him and will do to any others who attempt it._ Loki’s words after saving him from Ultron were cycling through his mind and making him feel slightly sick. He’d moved into the kitchen, leant against a wall, and finished the last of his water with his eyes shut. _How can I like someone so fucking psychopathic?_

“Anthony?” Loki asked softly, not far from him. Tony startled, and his eyes flew open as he jerked to look to his side. Loki was watching him carefully. “Are you well? I have more anti-nausea if it’s your stomach?”

Tony laughed a little harshly. “No, it’s not the shit you gave me. I’m just having a fucking moment imagining everything you’re going to do to them, and _that’s_ making me feel a bit sick over it.”

Loki’s gaze shifted to the wall. “Ah,” he licked his lip before looking back at Tony with an unhappy frown. “I _would_ let you take them to the authorities if I thought they might desist. They wouldn’t; they would only coordinate from their prison cells. Besides,” Loki got a little more emphatic, possibly even frustrated, “they are no better than Ultron. You said you didn’t care for his death; that it was deserved and better for the public to not have him among its populace.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded both it and his voice sharp. “You’re right. I’m not crying over Ultron, for my and for Wanda Maximoff’s peace of mind. But you know what I _do_ have a problem with?”

Loki crossed his arms. “Enlighten me.”

Tony slammed the empty bottle on the counter and moved so they were standing directly opposite each other. “I have a problem with the fact that I’m standing here talking to a man whose going to _enjoy_ killing them. You’re going to _like_ their destruction, not only because it protects me and your own stance among these criminals but because you _like_ it, don’t you? You’re going to _enjoy_ hurting them for daring to hurt _me_. I have a problem with the idea that you’re _that_ fucking sadistic.”

Loki’s face went carefully blank as his eyes bore into Tony’s. “You think that of me.”

Scoffing, Tony answered, “You said you would have done more than shoot Ultron, you told me you’d fucking _torture_ him if you had the chance.”

“No,” Loki shook his head, raising his hand and making an abrupt gesture with it, further denying the accusation. “I would have returned any damage he gave you. I would have made him experience his own ministrations for nothing other than the banking of my own rage at what he could have and _did_ do to you.”

“So you, what,” Tony spat, “only torture in an ‘eye for an eye’ sort of style?”

Loki winced. “Crudely put, but yes, I suppose it’s accurate. I’m not fond of torture,” his mouth twitched up resentfully, “those who have experienced it rarely prefer to use it as a method.”

Tony’s eyes widened and his face fell. “You...?”

Lifting one shoulder lightly, dismissively, Loki replied, “In my younger years I was full of tricks, ambition and I mouthed-off to authority. I also picked a bad target for that once. I have taken greater care since.”

“What...” Tony hesitated, not sure he wanted to know but unable to stop himself, “what happened?”

Loki’s eyes flickered and his gaze went distant for a moment before he blinked back to Tony. “I killed the man responsible and fled until I had enough power to crush the one who had ordered it as well as his organization.” He shook his head when Tony went to speak again. “I don’t wish to speak of any further details about what happened. Rest assured, it has made me _far_ from sadistic, but very keen to give torturers a taste of their own methods.” He quickly turned dejected. “But I suppose it’s not great leap you would think that about me-”

“It was Odinson,” Tony blurted, making Loki blink in confusion, but Tony _needed_ to explain and to repay the wave of relief Loki had just given him. “He told us a story when you first came to see me, that and your comment after Ultron, it just all sort of...” Tony made a motion with his hand, “snowballed.”

“What story?” Loki questioned suspiciously.

“It was to do with your old girlfriend, what was her name?” Tony wracked his brain; it was some weird thing. “Sing? No, um-”

Loki interjected, his voice a pained sigh: “Sigyn?” Tony nodded, making Loki grumble. “Of course he would dredge up that old tale.”

There was an exasperation that gave Tony a small blossom of hope. “He said you drove her to death.”

Loki scoffed. “Hardly, she didn’t even kill herself.”

“What?”

“She was not my lover,” Loki explained. “She was an amusement and a suitable guise for me to be out of the house. When she found she was pregnant to a man she didn’t want to be tied to, she needed to run. I had developed just enough connections at the time to assist in that escape.” He shook his head, but there was a fond smile forming. “She was a lot more overdramatic than I had expected in the execution of her demise.”

“But she’s alive,” Tony persisted.

Loki blinked with surprise but agreed, “I haven’t seen nor spoken to her for years, but yes, she made her way to Asia and, to the best of my knowledge, is rather happily married there.”

“I, huh,” Tony tilted his head, re-evaluating the picture he’d been painted by Odinson. “So that’s why you were trying not to laugh when he told you.”

“Yes.” He smirked. “It has made me seem far more callous than I am, what with Thor’s penance for sharing that story around. It has hardly caused my reputation to suffer, as you may imagine.” His grin turned slightly smug, probably at pulling one over on his brother. “Rather the opposite, in fact.”

“Yeah, until _I_ heard it and thought you were an even bigger asshole than before,” despite his words there was a noticeable relief tinging Tony’s words, and he was smiling a little.

Loki’s voice dropped though, his humour disappearing, “Yes, and I assure you, Anthony, that was not something I had wished to have happen.”

Smile softening, Tony said, “I got that.” He motioned towards the abandoned table. “So what _are_ you going to do to them?”

“Ah, perhaps I shouldn’t say. You will need to act surprised when I release you, will you not?”

“That means I also can’t help you find them,” Tony pointed out.

“I would have enjoyed that,” Loki wistfully answered, “but it’s for the best. You need to know as little of this as possible, and I think,” he hesitated, “you will also be more comfortable not being included?”

Tony winced, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck without thinking. “Yeah, I think that might work out better.”

“Alright,” Loki gestured at the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything here, I have books in my study that you’re welcome to read or examine. I can’t, for obvious reasons, give you anything you could use to contact S.H.I.E.L.D., but otherwise, my house is at your disposal.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, remembering Loki’s awkward and hurried nature by his bedroom. “Oh? So I can go _anywhere_.”

Loki, it seemed, rapidly caught on to the implication, but instead of being self-conscious, he just smirked and replied, “Anthony, if you _want_ to enter my bedroom, I’m hardly going to complain or stop you, am I?”

“Ah.” Tony tried not to flush at the backhand proposition. “So, books, you said?” He cleared his throat. “Anything good?”

Loki, to his credit, didn’t look disappointed at his avoidance of the topic. “I’ll leave that for you to decide.” He stepped back to leave the passage clear. “I have some further things to look into, but I can collect you in a few hours and we can have dinner?”

Tony had started to leave but paused and looked over his shoulder at the other. “Dinner, huh?”

Holding up his hands, Loki explained, “Nothing untoward or to be inferred. It’s almost five, and we’re both likely to be hungry in a few hours. You don’t need to eat with me if you don’t wish to.”

“Hmm,” Tony hummed. “We’ll see.”

He didn’t give the other anything else to go on as he moved swiftly to the study, leaving Loki to his methodical search for whoever was out to kill Tony. It wasn’t that he wanted to give the impression he was uncomfortable around Loki, quite the opposite. Now that he knew Loki _wasn’t_ the kind of man Odinson had tried to imply, Tony found it increasingly harder to hold onto either his anger or his desire to distance himself from the other man.

 _I need him to hurry up and find whoever’s doing this_ , Tony thought, with the second nervous run of a hand through his hair in the last five minutes. _Because I think I might be starting to like him a little too much._

* * *

Tony had found it exceedingly ironic to find the complete Sherlock Holmes in Loki’s collection, and after a brief debate, he’d pulled down the volume and sprawled himself in one of the armchairs. He made sure to keep Loki within sight, but the only downside to that was during one of his first glances up from the book he’d caught and held Loki’s amused gaze.

It became something of a game for a half hour or so; catching one another looking and raising their eyebrows teasingly - but they soon became lost in their respective tasks. Tony hadn’t spent a lot of time reading for leisure and was finding the novels fun and interesting. He lost track of time, only being brought out of 19th century London by Loki’s voice, “Anthony?” He looked up, blinking into focus on Loki’s smirk. “Of course you would choose a detective novel.”

Although it had never been said in the book, Tony couldn’t stop the way the words rolled off his tongue, “Elementary, my dear Loki.”

Loki’s amusement only seemed to grow. “That’s from the television show, I hope you’re aware.”

“Shh,” Tony pointed at him, mock-glaring and fighting off a smile, “don’t ruin things for me.”

“I apologise,” Loki replied around a chuckle. “Which tale have you reached?”

Flipping open the book from where he’d closed it, a finger holding his place, Tony quickly found the name. “Hound of the Baskervilles.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose. “You progressed quickly.”

“I absorb information fast.”

Loki hummed. “Well are you willing to leave Mr Holmes? I have made all the progress I can tonight and am going to begin dinner. Do you have any preferences?”

“You’re going to _cook?_ ”

Loki’s mouth quirked up at the incredulity. “It isn’t a difficult skill to master.”

“Oh, yeah? Well what’s on the menu then? Campbell’s Soup?”

Scoffing, Loki told him dryly, "I assure you I can do better than food from a can."

"I don't know, those can-openers can be difficult - dangerous too."

"Oh?" Loki wondered. "Is that how you got that scar on your finger?”

“I’ll have you know that was a circuit board when I was five.” Tony narrowed his eyes. “And how the hell did you even notice that?” He looked down at his own hand. It was faint but it was there if you knew where to look - or managed to catch him in _very_ good light.

“I noticed it at our dinner,” Loki told him softly. “I was very attuned to you that evening, making sure you were healing from your injuries and whatnot.”

 _And whatnot indeed_ , Tony thought but didn’t say. He bit the inside of his lip, debating the idea before he put the book down and pushed up into a standing position. “Well, whatever. We going to make dinner or not?”

Loki’s eyebrows had almost reached his hairline, and he’d needed to take a step back so that Tony’s movements hadn’t put them chest to chest. He obviously hadn’t expected Tony to join him. “We? You wish to help?”

“Well I may not be a _sous chef_ ,” Tony grumbled, “but I can cut a vegetable.”

“I’m not sure if I should give you a knife,” Loki teased, but there was an undercurrent of something truly serious that was being tested as well. “Would it be wise, do you think, to give a weapon to one who was abducted?”

Tony quickly realised this was something Loki wanted an answer to. Loki was testing him - gently, carefully - over how he felt about what was happening. Tony couldn’t blame him. A few hours ago, Tony was spitting curses at Loki, and now he was asking him for a _knife_. Tony winced a little and wondered if he wasn’t making a terrible mistake even as he held out a hand. Loki eyed it. “How about you don’t poison me, and I don’t stab you?”

Loki smiled oddly. “There are a lot of options still left open to us with a deal like that.”

“Looks like we’re going to have to trust each other,” Tony affirmed, wiggling his fingers. “You’re the host, and I’m the guest, right? People in those roles tend not to kill each other.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Hesitantly, Loki grasped his hand, and Tony wasn’t oblivious to the way Loki’s fingertips grazed the inside of his wrist. He shot Loki a knowing look and while he received a more honest smirk in reply, he got absolutely zero repentance. “But as my _guest_ , should you really be helping?”

It was a bit of a low blow, but the words fell out before he could stop them, a teasing edge to his voice. “Are you really going to refuse spending time with me?”

“No,” Loki answered simply, and that truthful admission made something in Tony’s stomach twist pleasantly. Loki’s finger made one further pattern on his inner wrist, making Tony shiver before his hand was dropped. “Come on, Anthony. I’m sure you’ll be capable enough at peeling potatoes.”

Tony swallowed, snapping out of the strange state Loki had sent him into. He hurried to follow the other. “Was there an insult in there about my culinary skills?”

“You already implied you weren’t a deft hand in the kitchen; I’m extrapolating from that.”

“Hey! I _can_ cook thank you! Homemade stir fry is something Pep-” he stumbled over the other’s name, still hesitant to give out personal details of people he cared about to Loki. He’d never slept with Pepper, but he remembered the jealousy Loki had let slip when he’d casually slept with someone else. “A friend,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “made me learn.”

“Ah,” Loki acted as if the slip and his subsequent bull through a china shop level of subtlety never occurred. “Well then, this will be right up your alley.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony asked as they reached the kitchen. “What is Chef Laufeyson preparing tonight?”

“A chicken tagine.”

Tony blinked. “What the fuck is a ‘tagine’?”

Loki was trying to hide his smile as he started pulling chopping boards, pots and food out to pile on the bench. “Traditionally it’s a type of pot but is now used to describe what is cooked inside it.”

“And what _is_ cooked inside it?”

“Many different things.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Mr Obtuse.”

“Come here,” Loki gestured him over to some onions and a chopping board. “Start with these.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Tony muttered petulantly as he took his place by the board.

Loki was suddenly right behind him, and Tony stiffened. His breath caught as even though Loki wasn’t touching him, Tony swore he could feel the heat of the other. There couldn’t been an inch between Tony’s back and Loki’s chest as he curved his head to murmur close to Tony’s ear, “The ingredients are before you, I did not think you needed further elucidation.”

Tony was staring at the bench unseeingly, trying to keep his voice level when all he wanted to do was _lean back_. “What if I didn’t like some of them?”

“I’ll be happy to substitute,” Loki assured him.

He could smell Loki’s cologne, and it was doing funny things to not only his insides but his head. He needed Loki to move or something was going to happen that he couldn’t risk. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

The tension to his voice must have been palpable because Loki immediately backed off. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Loki’s voice was soft, and Tony turned quickly to look over his shoulder, but Loki was facing away, pulling out plastic gloves so that he could cut the raw chicken. Tony still watched him for a good moment, wondering if there hadn’t been a second conversation Loki had been hiding underneath the one that had occurred on the surface. He bit his lip, but was brought from his thoughts by the sudden soft notes of Jazz. He turned back to find a controller in Loki’s hand from where he must have turned on the living room stereo.

“I don’t like silence when I cook,” he explained.

Tony abruptly saw it for the out it was. Loki was willing to work without conversation, to let the process of cooking pass with nothing but music and instruction. Loki had made his usual, cautious flirtation but had instantly taken as many steps back as needed when Tony started to baulk. Tony clenched his fist. _Not this time._

They had who knew how long to look forward to in each other’s company, and Tony wasn’t about to let discomfort fester. He knew Loki would stop pushing if he asked and that was enough for him. He wasn’t going to encourage Loki - he couldn’t afford to - but he wasn’t going to make Loki think Tony was afraid of the slightest touch either.

“Didn’t know you liked jazz,” Tony commented, leaning over unnecessarily to get another knife, bumping Loki’s shoulder lightly as he did. Loki startled; his eyes going wide as he looked down at where they’d touched. “Is there going to be any punk on this playlist?”

Loki’s smile was slow to come but was shyly thrilled when it did. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

Tony smirked. “Never.” He pointed the knife at the onions. “Now, sliced or diced?”

* * *

Making dinner was fun, which was surprising, Tony had never really liked cooking, but Loki made it just as light and easy as sitting down for their date had been. Loki teased him about how perfectly he cut everything, and Tony told him he had no place to judge when his chicken was freakishly even and didn’t make strange shapes and patterns when he cooked it.

They also spoke about Jazz artists and favourite foods, and at one point Tony had to lean his forehead against Loki’s shoulder because he was laughing too hard and had vegetable guts on his hands. Loki had looked insanely thrilled even when he’d pulled back.

It had been really nicely, stupidly _domestic_ , but they were practically living together and liked one another, so Tony assumed it was natural. He fucking _hoped_ it was or he was in some serious trouble. It was that alone that put a damper on things. Loki thought they were preparing for dinner - and they were, but they were also preparing for something else: _ground rules_.

Tony needed to get an idea of what to expect. He also needed to let Loki know what _he_ could expect. Tony was a tactile person and being alone with Loki for weeks on end was going to have him touching the other - a casual hand on a shoulder, a flick to the ear - normal things for him. He needed Loki to respect that. He could touch back, but he couldn’t kiss, he couldn’t crowd, fuck it all, he couldn’t _mess up Tony’s brain chemistry_.

Not that Tony was going to tell him it was something Loki was capable of. He was just going to talk to him like an adult. The numerous accounts of how fucked up Loki was had turned out to be highly fabricated, and Tony also had the physical proof in how Loki expressed himself and acted around Tony. He wasn’t out to hurt the guy or anything, but Tony needed to know he was safe and wasn’t going to be jumped a couple of days down the line. (He wasn’t sure at this point if he was going to be fighting Loki off or pulling him closer. He knew what he _needed_ to do, but what would win out was a different matter and was very concerning.)

“Anthony?”

“Hmm.” Tony blinked back to the room, realising he still had a plate in his hand and was hovering it above the table he was setting. Loki was shooting him a worried look. “Sorry.” He placed it down with the last of the cutlery. “Everything done? Need a hand?”

He could see Loki shaking his head in the kitchen as he picked up the pot with two dishcloths. “I’ll manage fine, Anthony.”

Taking his word for it, Tony left Loki to the kitchen as he eyed the table. It was simple: basic plates, standard cutlery. There wasn’t a candle in sight, but there _was_ a bottle of wine; it bordered on intimate but still skirted close enough to casual that Tony wasn’t about to bring it up. It actually made him smile slightly. It was so like Loki - pushing boundaries and taking as much as he could before he got noticed.

“You seem cheerful,” Loki commented, placing the pot on the table for ease of serving. He was watching Tony closely, something suspicious mixing with his amusement. “Perhaps I should be worried.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Calm your expensive boxer shorts and stop trying to spoil my evening.”

Raising his eyebrows, Loki straightened. “My, such thought has been given to my undergarments that you’ve even imagined a preference?”

Refusing to blush or be out teased, Tony smirked at him. “It’s my job to notice things.” Tony looked him up and down, lingering on his pants. Loki’s eyes had darkened slightly when he looked back up. It was almost a shame to ruin it. “And there was a picture of you in boxers in Odinson’s file.”

That knocked the look off Loki’s face and into a faint pout. Tony’s grin just widened as Loki grumbled, “One day, I will find that file and incinerate it.”

“But it brings such _joy_ to others,” Tony pressed a hand to his chest, emphasising, “Specifically to _me_.”

Loki seemed torn at that before he eventually gave a heavy sigh, heading back into the kitchen to grab the remaining items. “Fine. Retain them. I would like to know _what_ image Thor saw important enough to include of me in _boxers_ however.”

“It actually beats me, I couldn’t figure out a good cause for it either.”

“What exactly _was_ the image?” Loki enquired, placing the rest of the items on the table. “How old was I?”

Tony grimaced. “I don’t know, a teenager? You looked half asleep with bags that extended from eye to elbow. Your hair makes the _best_ bird nest, by the way.” The glare he shot Tony could have melted ice. “I think it might have been ‘proof of your dastardly deeds’,” Tony even used air quotes on the phrase, “because you hadn’t slept that night or maybe a couple more on top of it.”

Loki was frowning thoughtfully. “Was this, by chance, with me at the top of a staircase?”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, “There were picture frames on the wall too but I couldn’t see what was in them because of the glare from the flash.”

“Ah,” Loki nodded. “Yes, I remember that morning. Thor thought to see himself a famous photographer and near blinded me with his new camera.”

“Oh, yeah? What was he going for? Skinny, sleep-deprived youths of the modern era?”

“I doubt Thor was going for more than utter annoyance and an attempt at artistic genius.” Loki gave the look of exasperated siblings everywhere. “And a genius Thor has _never_ been - in any form.” Tony was going to reply but Loki said decisively, “Now, we wouldn’t want our efforts to be wasted.” He gestured Tony to the nearest seat, “This will go cold soon.”

The fact he’d brought the meal over in its covered pot made Tony see it for the subject change it was, but he allowed it and took his nominated place. Loki took his own one opposite Tony a moment later. He lifted the wine bottle, and Tony couldn’t help his small chuckle even as he nodded. It was just so ludicrous; he’d been _chloroformed_ by this man a few hours ago and here they were sitting down to a home cooked meal.

“What has you so entertained?” Loki questioned, pouring liquid into their wine glasses.

Taking his own, Tony brought it to his lips but didn’t sip until Loki had poured his own. “The difference twenty-four hours can make to your life?”

Loki made a noise of realisation before stating, “I do hope you know that despite regretting what has brought you here, I’m not going to apologise for taking advantage of the time in your company.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tony took a fortifying drink, watching the way Loki tensed. “We need to talk about it.”

“What did you have in mind?” Loki put his glass down carefully, scanning Tony as if trying to depict which way the conversation was going to turn.

“Ground rules,” Tony tossed onto the table abruptly. He’d tried to come up with softer wording but hadn’t found anything workable. “We need to figure out how this is going to work. We’re living together, and I like covering all bases before they blow up in our face.” Loki’s shrewd look gave Tony an idea of how that twisted, intelligent mind was planning to navigate this conversation. “ _But_ ,” Tony pressed, “I’m happy to finish dinner first.” He smiled slightly. “I’m hungry. The hard stuff can wait a bit don’t you think, Lokes?” The nickname was created and released before Tony had a chance to realise it was even there. His eyes widened with shock and Loki’s did the same. _Fuck_ , Tony thought, _that wasn’t meant to happen_. “Um.”

Loki’s smile was curling mischievously. “Oh, do continue. I don’t mind being your ‘ _Lokes_ ’.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, let’s not. Come on, you said dinner’s getting cold.” He went to reach for the lid but stopped when Loki’s own hand darted out to grab it first. Tony paused with his palm hovering not far from the other’s. “What?”

“These rules you wish to lay down,” and his smile had faded again, “can requests be made as well?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “What kind of requests?”

“The kind where you call me that more often.”

Tony was locked in Loki’s hopeful eyes for a long time and his chest felt like it was being clenched - sending out the sweetest ache with every vice like tug. “Lokes?”

“Yes,” Loki answered softly, “I like you calling me that.”

Loki’s expression and the problems that had suddenly developed in his chest were making Tony feel breathless. Tony felt the air charging with something he shied away from. He dropped his eyes to the couscous that could be piled on your plate with the tagine.

“Sure, I can do that,” Tony agreed, chuckling a little awkwardly. “It’s a better reaction to a nickname than I’ve had from some people in the past.”

The emotions in the air made Tony feel overly conscious of himself; so much so that he actually jerked when he heard the unexpected sound of the lid from the pot get placed on the table. His attention swung back to Loki who was focusing on the food as well. “Nicknames aren’t used all the time,” Loki said conversationally, “they’re simply interjected after appropriate intervals.”

Tony frowned. “I did just say I would do it.”

“I’m not denying your agreement,” Loki riposted, but still wasn’t quite looking at him, “I’m outlining the request further. Rules and guidelines are best followed when they have the greatest explanation and aren’t left open for interpretation.”

“Loki, this isn’t a fucking legal document. I just thought I should say something like, ‘hey, I might hug you, that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you’.”

 _Ah, **shit**_ , Tony internally hissed and wished he could beat himself over the head with the nearest blunt instrument. _Award for biggest fucking insensitive asshole goes to...?_

The spoon Loki had picked up to start serving clattered to the table. It had barely been for a second, but Loki had flinched, a pained grimace being quickly swallowed by a blank mask that hid everything.

“Loki,” Tony tried.

“Thank you for giving me such a _succinct_ line to be aware of Anthony. I’ll do my best to remind myself that the smallest, _casual_ and _friendly_ gesture does not instantly mean you find me sexually appealing,” the last two words were somewhere between a spit and a growl. It made Tony feel three inches tall. Actually it made him feel smaller. Surely he’d shrunk to the size of a molecule by now?

“I really didn’t-” Tony insisted but Loki looked up and _glared_ at him, and Tony’s mouth snapped closed with a click of his teeth.

“No, Anthony, I think this is something you _did_ mean and please, do continue,” his eyes burned holes through Tony, “please _allay_ your fears by shouting all the ways you feel I might misconstrue your _obvious_ lack of interest in me as more than just an occasional companion. Do you truly believe I am _oblivious_ to the way you shy from me? Do you think I ignore the way you tense if I get too close? _Believe me_ , Anthony, I notice every time you don’t want me near you.”

Tony ran a hand over his face, feeling terrible and not intending for it to have gone this way at all. “Loki, that’s not what I’m-”

“What you’re saying?” Loki cut in, “You’re saying that you may slip your guard and treat me like a friend and that you _fear_ that this will cause me to press for an advantage and come on to you-”

“And you’ve done that _before!_ ” Tony yelled and made Loki jerk back. Tony gritted his teeth. “You made a mistake when you did it and you admitted that so I’m not holding it against you, but we _both_ know you want to sleep with me-”

“ _And you don’t reciprocate that_ ,” Loki shouted, raising his voice for one of the only times during their acquaintance. Hissing out a breath, Loki pinched the bridge of his noise, calming himself and continuing, “You like men, but you don’t like me; I’m not unaware of that, but I like your companionship regardless of anything else that might occur from it. I admit I flirt with you, I _admit_ I touch you more than what is strictly platonic, but I stop the moment you even look slightly uncomfortable. I had never intended to give the impression I wouldn’t desist at your request. I had thought that you were aware that-”

“Oh, for fucks’ sake, Loki!” Tony reached out before he could stop himself, leaning over the table slightly to grab the hand that had been fiddling with his napkin. Loki startled at the touch and quickly focused intently on Tony’s hand cupping and stilling his. “ _Yes_ , I notice when you back off and that you’re being really fucking nice about everything.” He let out a breath and forced his voice to soften and bleed free from irritated emotion. “I didn’t mean to say what I did. I’m sorry, but you were pissing me off. You just... you don’t always have to back up like that, okay? You made a request, and I said yes, leave it at that, okay, Lokes?”

The nickname was half deliberate and half _fucking right_. Loki was offended, hurt, and probably a bit pissed off, and that meant what it always did when Tony was comforting a friend: affection. It meant squeezing Loki’s hand before pulling back. He _hadn’t_ expected it to mean Loki catching his palm and keeping him there a little longer. They weren’t quite holding hands; Loki’s thumb was under his palm and his fingers over the top but it was close enough.

He caught Loki’s gaze, and God, it looked nervous as hell but also vaguely desperate. “Do tell me when you’re uncomfortable, Anthony. I mean that - if nothing else, please promise me _that_. I’ll always push for what I want; it’s in my nature.” He shrugged a little self-deprecatingly, “I know I can’t have everything I desire, but when it comes to you, I worry that I _will_ need the reminder to stop myself.” He stroked his thumb gently, and the touch made Tony shiver. Loki smiled a little, but it was sad. “I think that’s what makes me so defensive, sometimes I worry I will misconstrue something because of my own wishful thinking.” Loki abruptly let Tony go, but he was too frozen to move, staring at the other as Loki continued quietly, “So don’t apologise. I think you were right about us needing to discuss how we’re to act while you’re forced to remain here.”

“I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand,” Tony told him quietly. “I really didn’t.”

Loki waved him off before picking up the spoon again, his voice was still a little off, not quite as composed as he was aiming for but Tony didn’t call him on it as Tony slowly sat back down. “It had to happen some time, better now when we’re deciding everything and can be honest.” Loki cleared his throat, putting the spoon in the tagine but not serving anything. He finally focused directly on Tony. “I will not touch you in any sexual way while you are here.” He bit his lip as if he was trying to hold something in before blurting out, “Unless you initiate it.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he couldn’t stop the brief chuckle. “Couldn’t resist that clause, could you?”

“I told you,” his voice wasn’t as relaxed as before but the cautious teasing was still returning, if tentatively. “I will always push for what I want.”

“Do I even want to _ask_ what construes as sexual in your book?” Tony asked, a little curious despite knowing it was a _terrible_ path to walk them down.

Loki’s smile was slightly pained. “It will cover the major components. If anything else I do falls into a category you don’t like, you’ll tell me, and it won’t be repeated again.”

“What about me?”

Loki blinked. “Pardon?”

“You should get the same thing - I touch you in a way you don’t like, you tell me and I’ll stop.”

Loki let out a harsh laugh. “What intimacy would I ever refuse from you?”

Tony gave him a serious look. “How about the kind I do absently and makes harder for you to resist breaking your own rule?”

“Ah,” Loki winced. “Duly noted.” They fell into an uncomfortable silence after that; it couldn’t have lasted more than a minute before Loki sighed and gestured at the food. “Come, we shouldn’t let this go to waste.”

Reaching for the spoon, Tony apologised, “Sorry for shitting on your nice and happy dinner plans.”

Loki shook his head. “I truly hadn’t anticipated you would forgive me for days - even with the few rocky moments we’ve had, this is still exceeding my expectation.”

“You must have had pretty crap expectations.”

“I kidnapped you,” Loki deadpanned. “You had every right to be furious.”

After all the crap he’d just put Loki through he thought it was only right to admit. “Maybe - but right now I’m far more inclined to trust and like you.”

Tony enjoyed the way his comment made Loki smile - taken aback though he was, Loki was still noticeably happy. “I’m glad my company is agreeable to you.”

Snorting, Tony also rolled his eyes at the other for good measure. “Loki, if your company was merely _agreeable_ , I would have stopped talking to you ages ago.” _Ah, fuck it all, go for broke_ “I can count the friends I have on one hand. You’ve already risen to one of the top positions. So stop fretting so much and eat your damn perfectly cut chicken.”

Loki ducked his head, using the excuse of serving his meal, but Tony knew better. He knew it was hiding the massive fuck off pleased smile he was sporting. But that was okay; if Loki wasn’t looking at him, then he wasn’t going to see the affectionate grin Tony was presenting at cheering Loki up.

It was a very troubling realisation to have, but Tony was going to hold off on his panic until later. They were friends, it was fine, there was nothing else going on, it was a really bad decision considering they were still on opposite sides, but it was still _fine._

He might have to look at that with a little more depth later, but it would be when he didn’t have Loki in front of him - certain to notice any change of mood - and a dinner he was actually really interested and hungry to eat. He still made sure to wipe the expression off his face when Loki glanced back up.

 _It’ll be fine_ , Tony assured himself. _You’ve got ground rules now. This is perfectly under control._

Tony ignored all the sensible voices in the back of his head - JARVIS, Barnes, Bruce, hell even _Howard_ \- who told him in unison: _you god damn liar._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the ~Domestic!Fractals section, hehe.
> 
> Now, if you feel like Loki's being a bit tentative/OOC do remember the guy has his ~crush living with him after being kidnapped and only because he's going to get killed. _And_ Loki knowing he was going to lose to Shield during the ultimatum. He's tense, stressed and just trying to make Tony like him. Poor bb.


	13. Chapter 13

The next few days passed with easy conversation about books Tony had read in the past, Loki’s recommendations from his collection, and in depth discussion of all kinds of pop culture. It also included their preferences in everything from favourite things, most despised song, and even countries they’d like to visit. They watched movies from Loki’s surprisingly eclectic DVD collection; they laughed, joked, and silently worked out where they stood with personal boundaries and forbidden topics.

It turned out there weren’t many subjects they actively shied away from - apart from S.H.I.E.L.D and the people out to kill Tony. They’d rapidly found a nice middle ground where Loki would touch his back to lead him places, their fingers would brush as they passed items between each other, and Tony would bump Loki’s shoulder when he was teasing the other. It was nice, casual, and even though he should have expected it, Tony was surprised when Loki told him he needed to return back to the city to check on things. He’d offered to purchase Tony items to tinker with in his spare time, and Tony had come up with a list that would allow him to tackle some pet projects he’d had in the back of his mind for a few months without making Loki worry he would try to build a phone.

He didn’t tell Loki that he could do that with a couple of hours and a few appliances Loki had lying around the house. He wasn’t _going_ to do it, so why worry the guy? Besides, Loki had looked shyly nervous as he’d asked, rushing out the things he _couldn’t_ offer until Tony had cut him off with an understanding comment and a smile.

Tony had taken to reading more with Loki gone. It was _weird_ ; he’d grown used to Loki’s continual presence. He was as silent as a mouse when he walked around and worked on locating his enemies but talkative and funny when Tony got him going. It had also been ridiculously easy to get used to waking up and stumbling into the kitchen to get handed a coffee by Loki. He was usually smiling behind his mug of tea as Tony sprawled over the table and muttered under his breath, waiting until he came to life after his first few sips of perfectly brewed caffeine.

When Loki had left yesterday morning, he’d stared at Tony for the longest time, absorbing everything about him before seeming to drag himself away. His hand had rested on the doorknob as he cautioned Tony that, while it wasn’t likely, someone could still find his location. Loki said a warning would sound throughout the house and that there were instructions on what to do in the bedside drawer of Loki’s room. Tony’s eyebrows had risen at the placement, but he otherwise hadn’t commented. Loki was looking at him too anxiously, like he expected to come back and find Tony had run away. He wondered if there _was_ a secret escape written in some notebook somewhere. It made Tony’s fingers itch, but he forced a lid on his curiosity. He wasn’t going to invade Loki’s privacy without good cause - even if it _did_ kill him to wonder what that room was like.

Assuring Loki with a teasing smirk that he’d be fine and wouldn’t burn the house down in Loki’s absence, he’d _finally_ managed to convince the anxious criminal it would be safe for him to leave. It was amusing how much Loki fretted, but at the same time, Tony didn’t know _who_ was after him and memories of Ultron made Tony ready to crawl out of his skin - especially when he didn’t know where he was or how to get somewhere safe if he did leave. Tony just had to remember to _trust_ Loki and while it didn’t negate all his worries, it did help.

Loki had told him he’d be home the following afternoon - actually used the term _home_ and had looked embarrassed the second he’d realised it. A housewife joke had been on the tip of Tony’s tongue, but he’d swallowed it back, letting the moment go without comment. Tony was also making a sizeable dent in Loki’s book collection during their time apart, and it was only mildly disconcerting to notice that he’d started complaining about Loki’s taste and had turned to look at the other, expecting him to be there. Tony had made himself another coffee at that point.

He was just used to talking to people, that was all, JARVIS, Barnes, and now Loki. The fact that he missed them just meant he didn’t handle solitude, or in this case, _captivity_ well. He kept telling himself that all through the first day and into the second. He only started getting more unsettled when he noticed the clock tick past five p.m. and Loki wasn’t back yet.

_He said he’d be back in the afternoon_. Tony had taken that to mean _two_ , not _almost dinner time_. He’d started cooking anyway, pulling down the well-cared for cook book he’d used the previous night. There were about ten of them, some were older than others, and on the inside of every cover, it had inscribed in pencil either Frigga Förestner or Frigga Odinson with the occasionally more childish scrawl of Loki Odinson underneath hers. Tony had needed to put the books down the first time he saw one with Loki’s inside.

Tony was using a Frigga Odinson book at the moment, trying to not get a single drop of _anything_ on the recipe as he made a chicken and vegetable soup. It had been one of the few things that the kitchen was stocked enough to make - and also hadn’t been so complicated that Tony feared he’d end up breaking his promise to Loki about not setting something on fire.

He was more or less finished now though. He’d also cleaned everything, and the pot had another fifteen minutes of simmering while he sat on the kitchen counter reading. The ladle was in gripping distance, and the house was more or less silent. It was peaceful - and weird. _Very_ weird. He’d never felt so much like a house-husband in his life. Not that he was, exactly. But he _was_ making a meal for two, waiting - and worrying - until Loki arrived back home. While _reading_. Tony still stopped on occasion and stared into space, wondering why he wasn’t ripping up the floorboards and creating a robot out of the toaster.

He couldn’t find a satisfactory answer to that and usually rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and went back to his book. He was almost finished Dracula and was ready to pick up the discussion of the vampire again -since Loki had refused to even utter the name after he’d found out that Tony had never read the novel. He was a freakin’ book snob, but Tony couldn’t find it in himself to do more than smile and indulge the guy. It wasn’t like improving his literary knowledge was hurting him.

Tony was just turning into a new chapter when he heard a knock coming from the front door. The noise was so startling Tony almost dropped his book. His spine went rigid and his hand started searching for the nearest sharp implement. It was a relief to hear Loki call, “You may put down any weapon you’ve just picked up, Anthony.”

Sighing, Tony let go of the ladle - he had no idea what he’d planned to do with it unless it was throw boiling hot soup at people - and jumped off the counter to make his way over to the door. There was a clever hole drilled to the side of the door and gave a better view than the typical apartment peephole. Loki had pointed it out to him as well as various other lines of sight in the house that would show people approaching - which was hard to do subtly anyway. To get into the property you had to pass through a wall of forest that barricaded the house from view, but once you were through the tree line it was nothing but grass and a gravel driveway leading up to the house. Tony hadn’t been outside yet, but there were enough windows for him to be able tell that much.

Quickly establishing that not only was it Loki but that he was alone, Tony unlocked the door and pulled it open. He’d had a quip about Loki being late and telling him he’d need to eat alone - a lie, since he’d cooked enough for four and with feeding Loki in mind - but it all fell away to be replaced with a startled, “What the fuck happened to you?”

It hadn’t been obvious before as Loki - the fucker - had tilted his head away from the peephole, but it was impossible to miss the swelling and soon to be bruising that came from being punched in the nose. Tony didn’t even think as he grabbed the other’s arm and yanked him inside. Loki gave him an innocent smile, but it lost some of its charm when it made him wince. “It’s nothing, Anthony.”

“No,” Tony grumbled while re-locking the door, “it’s fucking _something_ so don’t play that shit with me, I _invented_ it.”

“Truly, Anthony,” Loki assured, “it’s not broken and will heal swiftly enough.” Loki entered the living room, placing the laptop bag, brief case, and enviro-bag by the couch. He tilted his head towards the kitchen as he straightened. “That smells nice. What did you make?”

“Don’t try and change the subject. Hell, I’m surprised you _can_ smell,” Tony argued. He glared at Loki on his way to the kitchen. “Who hit you?”

Loki was soon following him. “It hardly matters-” he came up short as Tony thrust an icepack wrapped with a tea towel at him. “I really don’t think that’s nec-”

“If you don’t put it on your face in the next five seconds _I_ will.”

Surprise quickly turned calculating. “And if I deliberately hesitate to get that outcome?”

It took Tony half a second to realise what Loki wanted.

_Oh._

Tony did his best not to flush and after a moment of indecision - and probably to the surprise of them both - Tony took a step closer and raised both hands. The first one gently touched Loki’s cheek to hold him still - not that he needed much prompting, Loki had gone rigid and barely seemed to be breathing at the action. His eyes were locked fast and hard on Tony’s face, but Tony was focusing on Loki’s nose, trying to avoid that weighted stare as he brought up the icepack. He made sure to barely put pressure on the swelling; he knew how painful a bruised nose could be. He noticed Loki’s eyes flutter closed in his peripheral and quietly asked, “You okay? Does this hurt?”

He went to pull his hand away, but Loki’s darted up and lightly grabbed his wrist, holding the pack against him - but he didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he breathed, so Tony continued lightly holding it against his face.

Tony looked him over while he was there. He didn’t seem to have any other wounds, but there was a bit of blood on his shirt collar that made Tony think his nose had bled from the strike. He wondered who might have hit Loki as he manoeuvred the pack to another section. Loki winced when he pressed slightly too hard, and Tony pulled back while also stroking a soothing thumb against Loki’s cheek where he was still touching him.

A shudder went through Loki’s entire body. Tony could feel it under his hands as well as the slight shake that came from the hand on his wrist. Loki’s eyes also flew open, looking down at Tony and making his breath hitch at the storm of emotion that was inches away from him.

He couldn’t have said how long they stayed like that before Loki released his hand. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out slightly strained. “Thank you, Anthony.” He held out his hand between them but Tony just blinked at him and the extended palm. Loki was forced to add, swallowing thickly, “You may wish to stop touching me now.”

All at once Tony understood what was going on and took a step back, dropping his hands from Loki - _holy fuck, you were cupping his_ face, _you idiot_ \- and quickly gave the icepack to the other. Loki took it with another murmur of gratitude, and Tony hurriedly did an about turn to head back into the kitchen. He made a point to check on his cooking so he could stare into the bubbling water and not look at the other.

He heard Loki step into the kitchen and not long after he was quietly admitting, “I’m sorry I took longer than expected.”

Tony didn’t look away from the soup he was stirring at first. “It’s fine.” He clenched his teeth, but his curiosity and, fuck it all, _concern_ was eating at him. He put the lid back on and turned to face Loki. He was holding the icepack in his hand and flipping through the recipe book with a fond smile. “What happened, Loki?”

Loki slanted his eyes towards Tony, but one look at his stubborn resolve and Loki surrendered, “I was unexpectedly visited at my offices today.”

“By?” Tony prompted.

“Agent Barnes,” Loki answered simply, and Tony couldn’t stop his grimace.

Oh God, he could imagine it with crystal clear clarity. Barnes finding out he’d been kidnapped, again, and suspecting Loki, again, only unlike last time, Loki _had_ been the cause of his disappearance, and Barnes had probably known that within five seconds of being in Loki’s company.

Tony ran a hand over his face. “You baited him, didn’t you?”

“No,” Tony dropped his hand at the emphatic tone. Loki was gazing at him earnestly. “I didn’t antagonise Barnes in any way. He’s your friend, and he’s concerned about your welfare; I could appreciate that, but I also couldn’t tell him where you were. He knew I had your location, and he couldn’t drag it out of me. He was emotional; it was understandable.”

It sounded nice. It sounded completely fair. Tony only bought half of it.

“You were perfectly polite to the guy you _know_ is threatening to stop any communication between us. You have me in one of your houses and away from his influence, and you’re going to stand there and tell me you didn’t make at least a couple of digs? Really?”

Loki’s eyes shifted guiltily, but there was something else there too. “I may have retaliated at some of his comments.”

It clicked; Tony knew Barnes. He knew phrases like ‘ _could only have him if you kidnapped him_ ’ were likely to spew from his friend’s mouth if he thought it might garner a reaction. Knowing Loki, it probably did; a carefully _controlled_ reaction and a sniped remark about not being able to protect his friends. It wouldn’t take too many barbs like those, combined with an overwrought Barnes, to end up with Loki punched in the face.

“I’m surprised he didn’t break it,” Tony told him idly. “He has a powerful punch. You’d think his arm was made of metal sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Loki smirked lightly. “And Thor has dislocated a person’s jaw with a drunken slap. I’m well used to brute strength, besides,” Loki shrugged. “I was somewhat prepared for it.”

Tony stared for a moment. “I don’t know which part of that I want to comment on first.”

“How about neither?” Loki suggested, “I would rather not speak of either injury. Can we talk about your day? The meal you prepared? Perhaps even the rest of _my_ day if you insist, but I would truly prefer something calming.”

Loki gave him a soft smile and let the mask he’d been wearing drop away. He looked _tired_. He looked like someone who had spent all day running around with a sore nose and with a million and one things forcing him to stand straight, tall and, unaffected. He’d come _back_ like that but had rapidly dropped it on the hope Tony would respect his wish to unwind.

Tony did better than that, he took the melting icepack and headed towards the fridge, telling Loki. “You better appreciate the fact I’ve been _slaving_ over a hot oven all day. Get out of your blood-drenched suit and get your ass to the dinner table within thirty minutes.” He looked over his shoulder solely to catch Loki’s startled expression. “If I’m going to play at housewife, you better have fucking brought me back the items I asked for to make it worth my while.” 

“I-of course,” Loki stuttered out, looking too surprised by the turn of events to pull up his masks. He seemed a second away from laughter or from a smile that would be far too tender. He ended up clearing his throat and looking at the living room, pointing absently. “They’re in the bag. You can look now or after dinner?”

Tony checked the food. “Eh, dinner will be ready soon. If you want to shower I can just turn down the heat and set the table?”

Loki nodded absently. “That would be nice. I’ll be quick. Thank you, Anthony.”

“Eh,” Tony waved him off. “Don’t thank me until we know it’s edible.” Tony eyed the food dubiously. “I’m not a fantastic cook.” His mouth quirked up. “Although your Mum’s notations in the margins certainly made it easier.”

There was a pointed silence, and Tony glanced back over to find Loki tracing the cooking book fondly. “Frigga adored working in the kitchen, and I was the only one who would assist her.” He looked up at Tony. “I’m glad you liked her recipes.”

Tony felt like squirming. _Why do I feel like I’ve just been granted a rare privilege?_

“I do,” Tony answered quietly, and before he could stop himself, words he’d never intended were slipping out. “Maria never cooked much. It was usually Jarvis teaching me actual meals, but sometimes, when I was a kid, we’d make ginger snaps in the middle of the night, and she’d hush me so we wouldn’t wake up the household and have them find out. Stupid, really, the whole place would smell like baking, and the next morning the evidence was always there.”

Loki’s face softened. “That sounds lovely. The secretive, silly moments I’ve always found were my favourite memories of her.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, smiling right back. “Mothers were good for that.”

“They were,” Loki murmured, and they fell into a silence rife with nostalgia and intimacy, remembering the women who had raised them only to have their lives cut short. Maria Stark’s death was all over the tabloids; Loki would know the details, just like Tony had looked up Loki Odinson and learnt about the car crash that had taken his own Mother.

Clearing his throat, Tony gestured with the ladle. “Go on. Shower. Change. Thirty minutes and counting before I start eating without you.”

Loki chuckled. “A true threat.” Tony raised the ladle menacingly, and Loki held out his hands, laughing again. “I will be fast.”

He didn’t let Tony reply before he was ducking out of the kitchen, leaving behind the icepack and heading for his room. Tony ended up rolling his eyes at the other’s antics.

Giving the soup one more stir, Tony started grabbing items from the drawers so he could set the table. It was another odd experience that didn’t normally happen unless he was staying with Howard. Normally, it was plates on his lap in front of the TV, and that was if he even bothered with cutlery. He was usually too busy or too exhausted to have home-cooked meals with people. It was nice though; everything about being here with Loki was nice.

_It’s not going to last_. He reminded himself. But it only made him more inclined to enjoy it while it did.

He had barely started putting down plates when Loki came back into the room, surprising him. “You can’t have showered and changed in thirty seconds?” His words were said teasingly, but his face switched to a frown when he saw Loki’s expression. He looked odd. Tony couldn’t pick everything that was going on, but confusion was definitely one of them. “What-”

“You didn’t enter my room.”

Tony blinked. “Well, yeah. Why would I? It’s your room.”

Loki was shaking his head. “I as much as told you there was a means to escape inside it, and you didn’t even look.” He sounded lost, like a kid finding out Santa Clause wasn’t what they’d been led to believe. “I assumed you would remain for your own safety, and even then I had my doubts, but you didn’t even...” he trailed off, mystified, “you didn’t even look.”

_Huh_ , Tony thought. _You’re right, I didn’t._

It was actually kind of damning, now that he thought about it. Loki could have had _anything_ in that room. A gun, a phone, or even a secret tunnel that led to a garage he could use to get a car and escape. Loki could have had so many things in there, but Tony hadn’t even pried. He was interested, but he’d respected Loki’s privacy. Yet more than that, his actions had proven that despite having the option Tony had chosen to _stay_. It hadn’t even been a second thought; he’d just picked Loki.

“Why did you stay?” Loki asked, sounding pained before grimacing and abruptly holding up a hand, his voice was deliberately smooth when he spoke again, “No. I retract that question. Please don’t answer it.”

“Loki,” Tony tried.

Shaking his head, Loki said, “I mean that, Anthony. Please act as if I didn’t ask it.” He smiled thinly. “Act as if I did not bring any of this up. I was shocked - too shocked to have any sense it seems.” He began to leave. “Begin without me if you must, but I will try and remain within your half hour deadline.”

“Loki, wait.” Tony put the items he’d been holding on the table, making them clatter against each other but not stopping to care as he darted out and grabbed the other’s upper arm. Loki tried to shrug him off, but he held firm. “Loki, hey, just relax.”

Loki sighed and turned his head so that he was looking over his shoulder at Tony, he told him bluntly. “I like the reason I have in my head for why you stayed, Anthony. I don’t want to hear a contradiction. Please, can you respect that?”

_I like you, and I wanted to stay_. Tony wanted to blurt it out, but he forced himself to stop. Loki _might_ like to hear that, but how was Tony to know what was happening in the other’s head? Maybe Loki was imagining Tony saying: _I don’t want to enter your bedroom unless it’s with you_. Tony just couldn’t tell him that. He still _wanted_ to say or do something to brighten Loki back up, but he had no idea what it could be.

“Unless you plan on letting me do something I’ve promised I won’t, please let go,” Loki whispered, looking at the floor near their feet.

It was probably meant to be a threat but Tony didn’t believe it. “Do you mean that? You’ll do it if I don’t?”

Loki sighed. “And have you push me away and cease to trust me? No, I won’t.”

_But we both know you want to_ , Tony thought but didn’t voice. His chest hurt and it made him want to rub it to try and release the pressure. He didn’t, instead he did something far stupider but also impossible to avoid with Loki looking so downtrodden. Tony took careful steps closer until he was almost pressed against Loki’s back. He felt Loki stiffen but all Tony did was lightly rest his chin on Loki’s shoulder, his hand loosening on Loki’s arm as he stood close, sharing space with the other.

It took a good few moments before Loki ever so slowly begun to unwind and even pressed back against him softly. The way they were positioned meant neither of them could see the other’s face, but the air around them just _felt_ more peaceful at that small intimacy.

“I do like you, Loki,” Tony murmured.

Loki sighed. Tony could hear it as well as feel it in the way Loki’s shoulders dropped with the rough exhalation. “Can you say that again, without the ‘do’?”

Tony’s heart fluttered and his stomach clenched. He hesitated for the briefest moment before closing his eyes and admitting quietly, “I like you, Loki.”

Loki let out another breath but this one was gentler almost serene. They didn’t move for a few minutes and even though Tony was a bit worried about the soup, he didn’t want to break the moment.

In the end, Loki was the one to do it, tugging his arm from Tony’s lax grip. “Thank you, Anthony. I’ll be back after a brief shower.”

He moved away completely after that and this time Tony didn’t try to stop him. He just watched Loki walk away, the sight of the other’s back and ducked head making Tony’s heart feel briefly wrenched out of place.

* * *

The next fifteen minutes felt disjointed; Tony felt overly aware of himself. He’d also given in and rubbed his chest not long after Loki had left. He’d busied himself with preparing the table, checking on the soup and putting some bread and butter out just in case. He still ended up at loose ends and found himself fidgeting by the stereo system, flicking through Loki’s music selection. He hoped it might be a good fall back topic if things were awkward when Loki came back.

Tony shouldn’t have worried, Loki announced himself with a smooth voice, acting as if nothing from before had happened.

“Perhaps some Vivaldi?” he suggested, coming into the room dressed in the same casual style of clothes he usually wore. If he felt uncomfortable being in what was practically pyjamas while Tony was still dressed, Loki didn’t show it.

Unwilling to argue, Tony selected the composer and set the music to softly play in the background. Loki had waited by the table until Tony returned so that they could sit together. They drew out their seats at the same time, and when they sat, they began serving in silence. It rapidly got on Tony’s nerves. “So you got me the parts I asked for?”

Loki looked up at him briefly before back to the soup. “Yes. Everything that was on your list has been purchased.”

Tony’s eye wanted to twitch, it was like they had slipped back out of the leisurely ways of before into some kind vaguely formal manner they’d never used even in the beginning. The start of this had been a much bolder, much more assholish Loki. He wasn’t saying he wanted _that_ guy back, but anything would be better than this.

He supposed he’d have to be the one to force something different out of Loki.

Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, Tony waited until Loki was about to put the ladle back in the pot before he asked, “I hope you don’t think I’m going to cook for you every night.”

Loki eyed him warily. “No, I wouldn’t expect that.”

“Good,” Tony smiled. “I liked cooking with you.” His mouth switched into a smirk. “I can give you all the hard tasks.”

Loki’s cautious look slowly changed into something amused, and a tension Tony hadn’t noticed slipped free from Loki’s shoulders. “It’s probably wise not to trust you with anything much simpler than boiling water.”

“Hey!” Tony protested, “I made this, didn’t I?”

Loki lifted a piece of it up with his spoon, eyes dancing. “And look at how uneven your chicken is.”

“Freakish _neat-freak_ opinions are not considered valid,” he argued while grabbing some bread, “Besides,” he sniffed, “it’s all about the _taste_ not the _appearance_.”

“Says the man who requests _Molte Mele D’oro_ ,” Loki teased.

“I requested that for _mouth-watering food_.”

Loki chuckled, but the gesture quickly ended in a yawn. “Pardon me,”

Frowning, Tony paused in buttering his slice, “You alright?”

“Merely tired, Anthony,” Loki answered with a slight smile. “It’s been a long day.”

“You don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry.”

Loki shook his head. “I am, actually; it’s nice to come home and find a meal prepared. I’m far too often skipping them because of lack of incentive.”

Tony agreed. “Yeah, this is the most regular schedule I’ve had in years.”

They fell quiet after that, but this time it wasn’t awkward. They were both busy eating and enjoying – hah! He hadn’t fucked it up! - their dinner. When they’d both finished - and Loki had yawned enough for three people - he began to pick up his plates, but Tony made rapid protesting noises causing Loki to stare at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Put the plate down,” he ordered in his most no-nonsense voice.

“It needs to be cleaned, Anthony,” Loki tried to reason, but Tony stood up, one hand on his hip and the other pointed firmly back at the table. Bemused, Loki did as he was requested. “What do you plan to accomplish?”

“You. Sleeping,” Tony answered promptly.

Loki raised his eyebrows. “You can’t just put me to bed like a child.”

“I completely can.” Tony’s smile was all teeth. “Now up and out of here,” he almost slipped and made a joke about tucking him into bed but caught himself in time. “You’ve got damsels in distress to save tomorrow, so I expect you to be rested in order to do it.”

“Did you just call yourself a damsel in distress?”

“Hell yes I did,” Tony replied. “I’m smart enough to have everyone else doing the work for me. Now, go on.” He made shooing gestures towards the hallway. “To bed with you.”

Loki, instead of doing as requested, simply leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Do you truly believe you can order me to do that?”

Tony refrained from sighing and instead leant forward and with narrowed eyes, asked, “What’s it going to cost me?”

“To get me to go to bed?”

“Yes.”

Loki’s eyes shuttered like he was running ideas through his head. Tony had only just started to think ‘ _this could be a bad idea_ ’, when Loki blurted, “Walk me back.”

Tony gave a puzzled frown. “Huh?”

He wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes as he swallowed and calmed his voice so that it was less abrupt. “Walk with me to my room.”

It still didn’t make any further sense the second time, but Tony didn’t see the _harm_ in saying yes, and Loki was also dead on his feet. He was just glad the guy had agreed to some rest. “Alright. Done.”

Loki smiled like he’d just won something, and Tony had no idea what it was, but Loki seemed happier than before, and that was worth a short walk. Loki stood up without protest and walked around the table, waiting for Tony to fall into step with him. Tony was still bemused by the whole thing, it was about forty paces to Loki’s door, but here he was requesting the company.

When they were in the hallway, Loki remarked, “Thank you for dinner, Anthony; it was lovely.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony smiled.

When they reached his door, which didn’t take long - literally, _less than fifty steps_ \- Loki paused in front of it, his hands still by his side, and his attention focused on Tony. “We will need to discuss various things tomorrow, but for now, I want to thank you for a beautiful evening.”

_Beautiful, really?_ Tony thought but wasn’t about to contradict him. “Yeah. It was great.”

Loki’s mouth quirked up; showing something between humour and pleasure. “Good night, Anthony.”

Something started ringing vague bells in his head but Tony didn’t listen to them as he parroted, “Night, Lokes.”

But Loki didn’t open his door, he just watched Tony very carefully, something hesitant entering his eyes even as his mouth became a thin, determined line. Tony was about to ask about it when he noticed Loki’s hand slowly rising. Tony watched as Loki also shuffled a small step closer. He pressed his fingers lightly to Tony’s temple, and it took a long moment and also the brush of a tentative finger over that spot to make Tony remember. _Oh_. Loki briefly tugged his lip, a nervous gesture he seemed to have as he then moved his fingers to touch Tony’s cheek, his head tilting in obvious question. _Can I?_

He kept the faint touch there, giving Tony time to shrug it off, but he didn’t. His mind seemed to have stalled and wasn’t even trying to kick into gear as he kept studying the other. Loki’s eyes were darting over his face, searching for an objection, waiting for him to step back, but Tony never did. Loki even began to lean in, keeping their eyes locked until the last moment when he shifted, dropped his hand and pressed his lips to Tony’s cheek.

Tony even tilted ever so slightly into the gesture, his eyes closing as Loki held the contact for far too many heartbeats to consider it chaste. When he pulled back, he was trying to contain his smile, his eyes bright with the glow of success. Tony could only quirk his mouth up in a grin.

“Good night,” Loki repeated, something giddy in his tone that made Tony want to reciprocate and kiss him _back_ but he stopped himself and just returned the verbal sentiment.

Loki opened his door then, closing it behind him hurriedly as if he didn’t trust himself to leave - or maybe, didn’t trust himself not to kiss Tony again.

_Does that count as our second date?_ He asked himself before screwing up his face like he’d sucked something sour. _Bad idea. Don’t go down that path._

So they’d had dinner, and Loki had kissed him good night again. So what? It wasn’t like... fuck. Tony turned on his heel and made his way back to the kitchen. Who was he kidding? It was a date, _both times_ were dates, and he was encouraging Loki as much as he was stopping him.

Fuck.

He was the King of Mixed Signals - and the worst part was, he wasn’t even sure which one was right anymore - keeping the barriers up or breaking the last of them down.

_I am in so much trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waits with bated breath for excited squealing*
> 
> ... Well?


	14. Chapter 14

Tony woke up before Loki for the first time during their cohabitation. It left him in an awkward position as he stood in the kitchen, holding his second cup of coffee and staring with foreboding at Loki’s tea collection.

He didn’t know when Loki would wake up - he’d _known_ Loki had been tired, the stubborn asshole - and he also knew you couldn’t exactly let tea sit in a machine like coffee. On top of that, Loki had teabags, not leaves. He’d need to boil the kettle - and that was _if_ he was going to return the favour and make something for Loki in the first place.

So assuming he made that decision, he still didn’t know which one Loki drank first. The few times he’d seen Loki brewing a tea during the day it had always been from a different canister and Tony had never paid attention in the mornings, which was the crucial part. Tony also didn’t know how long Loki had been awake those times; was it his second cup Tony had seen? Or his third? Was there a difference in which tea bag was first? Did he have a specific one for when he was extra tired?

In summation: it was difficult.

He really should just go and open up his new bag of parts or even finish Dracula. There were lots of things he could do while he waited for Loki to get up. Yet he was still staring at the tea.

Who had six canisters of tea at his _safe house_ , for fuck's sake? Did tea spoil?

Putting down his coffee, Tony picked up and opened the nearest one. He sniffed it, and his nose wrinkled - it smelled like berries. Who drank watered down shrivelled berry pieces?

Well, Loki apparently.

Tony put the berry one back down with a frown and was moving onto the next when he heard the sound of shuffling feet. Turning around quickly, he had a guilty apology on his tongue, but it faded to nothing when he caught sight of Loki.

Loki who was in sleep pants and no shirt, whose hair was a fuzzy mess of tangles and who looked _completely shocked_ to find Tony in front of him.

 _Awwwh_ , was all Tony’s mind could come up with. The sound only got louder when Loki’s cheeks actually _flushed_. He didn’t go so far as to cross his arms over his pale but _very toned_ chest, but he supposed Loki was much more concerned with rushing hurried fingers through his hair.

“Anthony, I didn’t expect you up.”

Tony sent a pointed glance to the microwave. “Eleven in the morning, Lokes, I think _you’re_ the one to oversleep.” He smirked. “I told you that you needed it.”

“My apologies,” Loki mumbled, and it sounded _so weird_ coming from a shirtless Loki. He looked far too innocent with bare feet and fraying, grey, striped pyjamas. He looked nothing like the proper gentleman he always tried to be.

Gesturing behind him, Tony explained, “I was going to make you tea but had no idea which one to pick.” The hands in his hair stopped, and Loki looked torn as hell about what he wanted to do. Tony got the distinct impression he wanted tea but also didn’t want to remain sleep-ruffled in Tony’s presence. Tony wasn’t even trying to stop grinning at this point. “You can get a shirt, if you want, and a comb? I can boil the kettle while you do?”

Loki caught his eyes briefly, and there was distinct mortification. Tony had no idea why; Loki had seen him in all his nightmarish morning glory. Then again, Loki had a real habit of only wanting to present _one_ thing to Tony. He wanted to show the most preferable parts: drop the criminal, highlight the gentleman. Drop the adorable uncoordinated morning, focus on the smooth man who handed Tony coffee.

It was a shame; embarrassed bed-head Loki was quickly becoming one of his favourite things.

Loki didn’t seem inclined to stay though; he muttered something incomprehensible in response to Tony’s question and nodded. He also turned on his heel to leave and Tony couldn’t resist stepping out of the kitchen to watch. He waited until Loki was almost at the hall to call, “So what tea was it exactly? You didn’t tell me.”

He got the joy of watching the back of Loki’s pale neck flush before he grumbled out a couple of instructions before high-tailing it out of Tony’s sight.

Tony couldn’t resist cackling quietly as he slipped back into the kitchen and began making Loki’s drink while sipping his coffee. It turned out Loki’s morning tea - or at least, _today’s_ because Tony was sure he would have remembered smelling this - was chamomile. It was in a yellow container and made his nose twitch like he’d inhaled a bunch of flowers.

Did it even have caffeine? Why would Loki drink it in the morning if it didn’t have caffeine?

Confused by Loki’s strange tastes though he was, Tony still fulfilled the request and filled the mug with hot water. He then carried it over to the table with his coffee. He’d left the teabag in the cup and just hoped it would cool down to drinking level when Loki returned.

Taking his own seat, Tony poked at the book he’d gotten used to carting around with him for something to do. He slipped a finger under the cover and lightly batted it while drinking his coffee. He didn’t feel like reading. He _wanted_ to break into the parts Loki had brought him, but he didn’t want to just dive in on what was more or less a gift. _Look at that, you can learn patience_. He also didn’t want to miss Loki’s re-emergence into the room. Would he have changed completely or just slipped on the same shirt from last night?

It was a shame; Loki might have had a couple of scars, but there was _nothing_ to be embarrassed of with a figure like _that_. There wasn’t a scrap of fat; it was all toned muscles and a gorgeously pale and hairless chest. _Mm._ Tony wasn’t going to encourage Loki any more than he already had - and that had been a lovely freak out last night that Tony had gone through, filled with lots of tossing and turning in bed as he came to more than one realisation- but in the end, he’d come to a decision. He’d admitted that he was attracted to Loki. Might even be a little more than _physically_ attracted to the guy, but Tony knew his sanity and his willpower. He couldn’t acknowledge that when he was alone in a house with the other. Whatever this was that was building between them, it couldn’t happen. They were on opposite sides. This would all go up in a puff of smoke when Loki caught the people after him and Tony was sent back.

Tony had limited time here, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up by having Loki find out about his own interests. He was just going to take things as they came, keep the ground rules up, and remind himself at every turn that nothing had changed. He still couldn’t be with Loki, so the other never had to know that Tony was resisting him too.

It was all he could do, and even though a part of him wasn’t happy with the unspoken lie, Tony had limited options. He was just going to ignore his desires like he’d been doing the entire time Loki had been contacting him. Tony was good at denial; he’d be fine.

He’d have to be. 

Tony closed his eyes briefly, focusing on his coffee instead of the more painful things floating through his mind at the moment. Was it worth getting up for a third cup? He has just opened his eyes again, prepared to do just that, when Loki stepped into the room. Tony’s mouth couldn’t help quirking up. Loki’s hair had been brushed, and while it wasn’t its usual perfectly straight flicks, it was still more tamed. Fluffier too. He also _had_ pulled on the shirt from the night before, and it was creased and crinkled. It made Tony wonder if he’d thrown it into a corner before climbing into bed.

“Do you only wear a shirt at night for modesty?” Tony blurted out like the idiot he was.

Loki paused briefly with his hand on the chair he was about to pull out before continuing as if he hadn’t been startled. “I prefer to sleep in just pants, yes.”

He was slightly surprised Loki hadn’t used the remark to tease about being _‘curious of his sleeping habits’_. He’d been half expecting it.

Well, if Loki was going to keep it between the lines of polite conversation, Tony could do that too - while also pressing him, of course. “So why don’t you forget the shirt in the evenings?”

Loki had brought his tea to his lips and noticeably hesitated before continuing to take a drink. When it was back on the table he answered, “The tea is lovely, thank you, Anthony.”

Tony waited for more but when nothing was forthcoming, he questioned, “So you’re just going to ignore that question?”

“That was the plan.”

“Not a great plan,” Tony grinned. “I’m stubborn.”

“Yes,” Loki flashed him a brief smile. “I am aware of that.” Holding Tony’s gaze for a moment he eventually sighed. “Anthony, despite the days we’ve spent in each other’s company, is it impossible to imagine I may not wish to be seen like that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Loki sighed, watching Tony with fond exasperation. “You will make me spell it out, won’t you?”

Tony was so tempted to push, but he ended up holding his tongue, swallowing down his curiosity and disagreeing. “No. You don’t have to.” Loki blinked but then he smiled, hiding it a moment later behind his mug. Tony, to diffuse the air of potentially awkward emotions, announced suddenly, “That tea smells like shit.”

He got to enjoy Loki almost choking on the aforementioned drink, and Tony just smiled unapologetically in the face of his glare. “I would not expect you to appreciate the finer things.”

“It smells like barfed up flowers.”

“Charming,” Loki drawled before something curious entered his eyes. “Have you ever tried it?”

Tony pulled his coffee a little closer, protectively. “I like my coffee, thank you.”

“I’m not trying to take it away,” Loki dismissed, that light in his eyes burning brighter. “But have you ever _tried_ different teas?”

Tony gave him a flat look. “You’re going to make this a learning experience aren’t you?”

“You might enjoy them. They can be quite beneficial.”

He muttered _‘it’s like talking to Bruce,’_ under his breath so Loki couldn’t hear, before groaning loudly and holding out his hand. “Fine, give me the damn thing.”

Loki looked surprised, but he didn’t even hesitate; he just held out the mug, moving his hand so their fingers wouldn’t brush. There was another one of those odd expressions on his face, but Tony didn’t even try to analyse it, he just took the handle and brought the drink close, sniffing it suspiciously.

“You made it yourself; it’s not _poisoned_ ,” Loki chuckled.

Tony rolled his eyes before fitting his lips over the rim and taking a small sip. His mouth pinched, and his nose scrunched up, making Loki laugh even harder as Tony held the cup away from him and swallowed with a grimace. He ran his teeth over his tongue a few times, making unappealing lip smacking noises as he tried to take the taste away before just giving in and swapping the mug for his coffee.

“Ew,” he eventually pronounced after a good mouth swish and swallow of coffee. “ _Ew_.”

Reaching out, Loki took his cup back, still laughing under his breath. “Not fond?” Tony sent him an unimpressed look. “Not everyone enjoys floral tea. You might like plain black, however.”

“Oh, great,” Tony grumbled, “you give me the obscure, unliked tea first and then try and tempt me to more _normal_ ones? It’d be like giving you an espresso shot and then going ‘oh hey, try a latté now.’ You had your chance, buddy; I’m not trying anymore of your Wizard’s Brew.”

Loki was still laughing, his shoulders shaking as he let out little chuckles. His eyes were pinched shut, and his tongue was pressing behind his smiling front teeth. He looked so genuinely _happy_ , and Tony allowed himself a few moments to capture the image in his mind to hold onto later. When Loki eventually settled back down, he was still grinning wide enough for a couple of dimples to show. He lifted his mug and Tony saw his eyes dart to the rim, focusing on one particular spot.

 _The part I drank from,_ Tony realised, _wait is he going to drink in the same_ place _?_

He didn’t. Loki actively rearranged the cup so he wouldn’t, but the fact that he’d paused enough to note probably meant he was tempted.

Tony didn’t know what to do with that information. _Ignore it._ His mind warned him, and he actually listened to it this time. “Soooo,” he drew out the word, “can I have my shopping requests now?”

“Oh,” Loki sounded slightly dumbfounded. “You haven’t opened them yet?”

Tony shrugged, refusing to feel uncomfortable. “You weren’t here. I didn’t want to dig through your shit without permission.”

“Thank you for the consideration, Anthony,” Loki told him, standing up and making his way over to the bags he’d left against the couch the previous evening - his Devil’s Brew still held in his hand. “But I wouldn’t have left them here if I hadn’t been willing to let you examine them.”

Picking up the enviro-bag, Loki brought it over. He placed it on the table and, to Tony’s surprise, took the seat directly beside Tony. He usually left space between them, but when he started pulling items out, Tony supposed it made sense - easier to explain if you were both looking at the items at the same angle.

Not that Tony _needed_ much clarification when he’d been the one to make the requests. He quickly began pulling the items out as well, chatting absently about them whenever Loki mentioned he’d had to get a different version or brand. Tony mostly didn’t notice when his fingers brushed Loki’s, too busy mentally tweaking the diagrams in his head, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the first time it happened. Loki had stilled and darted his worried gaze to Tony, but when he’d realised it hadn’t been noticed, he’d done it again, deliberately this time. When he received the same reaction, Loki’s head had ducked before he’d kept up the casual touches.

It was only hours later - Loki had long since left him and was back to his research - that Tony paused in the middle of pulling apart the guts of a walkie-talkie as the memory surfaced. Loki’s calculating face as he slipped in casual strokes of his fingers over Tony’s hands, and the way he’d smiled secretively every time he’d managed to keep Tony oblivious to it.

 _Cunning little shit_ , he thought fondly and flicked a glance to the pensively scowling man who was typing rapidly on his laptop. Tony didn’t even think about saying something, he just let the moment fade again from his mind as he focused back on the sprawled mess he’d made of the dinner table.

And if his hands felt the ghost of those touches for the next few minutes until he was fully immersed again, well, he’d already admitted there was something between them; as long as Loki didn’t find out, he supposed it was alright to indulge in it just a little.

* * *

The next few days passed easily enough for Tony. He tinkered, he read, they cooked, and he was only left alone once more. It seemed to take the blink of an eye for over a week to pass as they grew more and more accustomed to living together. The only problem was the growing frustration on Loki’s face as he continued to get road blocked on his attempts to find who was targeting Tony.

Tony had waited patiently for the bloody nose to heal, hoping it would come up on its own, but the lack of conversation as well as having received no potential openings, he eventually just asked about S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Loki had been resistant but eventually admitted that they were searching desperately for Tony. Barnes, Odinson, and a few others were certain that Loki had taken Tony, but no one could prove anything. Loki hadn’t confirmed or denied involvement when he’d been interrogated, and considering he’d been assaulted by S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel for the second time, Fury was giving him a longer leash than he’d normally give a suspect - meaning Loki didn’t have any restrictions on his movements.

It was good for them, but Tony still felt sorry for his friends. He hadn’t asked again after that, letting Loki go back to searching his criminal database for potential assassins and grudge-holders.

It was coming up to two weeks, and Tony was playing with the robot dinosaur he’d made - he’d gone with dinosaur because it certainly didn’t look like a dog and ended up walking better when on two feet like a T-Rex - when Loki swore loudly.

Tony had been on the floor, leaning against the couch Loki was sitting on - a still teething dinosaur on a table top was just a recipe for re-attaching parts. Besides, sitting near Loki meant keeping a drink on the coffee table and hearing his snarky comments when the other was frustrated of dead ends.

Looking up at him, Tony was surprised to notice Loki looking a little pale. Snatching up the dinosaur, he turned it off while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Svartalfheim,” Loki hissed.

Tony blinked. “Gesundheit.” Loki shot him a withering look before he was back to intently examining his screen. Tony could take a hint. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s a Svar-heim?”

“A _very_ dangerous and suicidal terrorist cell that I _thought_ were eradicated.”

Tony stiffened. “That sounds bad.”

“I assure you, it is.” Loki ran a hand across his face and let out a breath between his teeth. His next words were mumbled angrily, and Tony only just caught them. “I had not thought they would carry their desire for vengeance for nearly a _decade_.”

“Wait, hold up.” Tony shifted so he was on his knees, a hand on the coffee table, and his body angled closer to Loki, forcing the other to drag his eyes to Tony. “Please explain this to me right now.”

There were a lot of words Tony didn’t like together and _vengeful terrorist cell_ were definitely three of them.

Loki let out another breath, obviously hoping to calm himself, Loki explained, “When I was living in London, a group of people banded together and called themselves Svartalfheim. They were mostly decommissioned soldiers, psychopaths, and hateful beings with delusions of grandeur. They were run by a crazed man called Malekith whose ultimate plan was to revert the world back to the Dark Ages.”

“How did he plan to do that?” Tony demanded, already imagining some pretty terrible ideas.

Loki scoffed. “I have very little idea how he thought his ideas would create his desired outcome.” Leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes, Loki admitted, “He had either stolen or created chemical weapons that were going to wipe out the greater London area.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony whispered.

Loki’s eyes cracked open. He had a pained pinch to his mouth. “I had heard ripples of their plans and was concerned, but Thor also came to me. We hadn’t spoken for years, but he begged me for any information on what they were doing and where to find them.”

“You told him?”

Loki laughed roughly. “God, no. I didn’t pass it on to that blundering idiot. He would have made a mess of things and admitted who tipped him off. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, but that I was very concerned as I lived in the city and didn’t want to see it destroyed.”

“I’m sure that went down well,” Tony said weakly.

“He ranted and raved and said I was no better than Malekith if I could stand by and let him kill so many people.” Tony winced loudly, but Loki didn’t seem bothered. “Luckily, one of the Agent’s under Thor’s command has a lick of sense and could be depended on to take and use any information I provided with subtly. Fandral,” he continued “fabricated the information as being from a woman who had left the ranks of Svartalfheim. Thor attacked their main place of operations and was heavily praised for saving London,” he rolled his eyes, “of course.”

Pulling himself up to sit on the couch next to Loki, Tony felt like he was going to need the cushioning. “And what did _you_ do?” Loki gave him an innocent look, but Tony cut right through it. “Fuck off, I know you did _something_.”

Loki inclined his head in agreement. “I, and a coordinated group of like-minded men and women, demolished the remaining outposts and chemical explosives.” He shrugged. “We were far less kind in ‘shooting to injure’. We wanted the bombs and their makers decommissioned, and we had some _very fine_ shots in our group.”

Tony decided not to comment on that, mostly because he’d already made his opinion known that crazed terrorists and torturers being killed didn’t bother him overtly.

“So why are they after you?” he questioned instead.

“I didn’t say they-”

“Cut the crap. We both know they’re the ones after me based off your reactions.” He stared Loki down. “Be honest with me.”

Loki debated it for a moment before he admitted, “I hadn’t known at the time, but a few months later, Fandral informed me that one of the men I was personally responsible for killing was Malekith’s brother, who was also his second-in-command. It’s seems that after these many years, they’ve tracked me down and decided on their means of revenge.” Loki looked at him, his mouth a thin, distressed line. “And that’s harming you.”

_Fuck. Well you asked for honesty, didn’t you?_

Tony decided to skirt around the last part of that explanation for the moment. “Why did Fandral tell you that?”

“Fandral is known to remember his debts. He also disregards certain parts of the law when it suits him,” Loki explained, a brief smile touching his lips. “He’s a little like us in that regard. He’s never hunted me the same way others have. He would rather bribe me with dinner and gain something on my enemies than outright choose me as an adversary.”

“You like him!” Tony accused, feeling put out and not a little jealous. “How many other government agents are you dating?”

Loki shot him a sharp look and said, in a way that was obvious he was choosing each word very carefully, “I did not know I was dating any of them.”

Tony had opened his mouth but quickly snapped it closed again, comprehending the faux pas or just plain Freudian slip. He was really hoping Loki just thought it was his usual overly-expressive and dramatic way of speaking and not a reflection of what he’d figured out last night. He had to consciously keep from clearing his throat. “You know what I mean.”

“I know you sounded almost _jealous_ ,” Loki murmured a hint of tease mixed with something almost wistful before he waved a dismissive hand. “But had you been, there is no need. Fandral is what I would call an amusing business acquaintance, or he was before I left Europe.”

Tony had to swallow down the irrational irritation he felt surrounding that guy. It was ridiculous and stupid when there were bigger things at play. “Do you think he’d have any information on these Svarna-”

“Svartalfheim.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. They go by anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Right, the S-heim’s. Also, can I just ask, what the fuck ever happened to names like Frank and Sam?”

His comments made a small, barely there smile appear on Loki’s face, but it was quickly drowned out by Loki’s growing anxiety. “These are not the kind of people to trifle with singlehandedly,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I had heard reports of Malekith’s alleged death in prison. I should have followed it up more.”

“Hey, you didn’t know,” Tony tried to reassure but Loki shook his head.

“I should have placed more weight on Fandral’s remarks. The insanity of Svartalfheim had never been in question; a vendetta against me would have been a logical path for them to go down.” Loki clenched his fist, not seeming to notice Tony beside him as he stared into the distance. “Of course they would wait until I had something of equal value to destroy. A brother for a lov-” Loki instantly went as tense as a bow string, and Tony did the same beside him. Loki didn’t even seem to be breathing. “I’m sorry,” Loki quickly stood. “I must look into this in more depth.”

He pulled out the plug for his laptop and didn’t wait for a response, he hurriedly left the living room with the computer and disappeared into the hall, the sound of his door closing was loud in the suddenly quiet house.

 _He wasn’t going to say what it sounded like he was about to say_ , Tony told himself firmly. _He **wasn’t.**_

Tony made a point of a shutting a firm mental door on that half-finished word. They had bigger problems to deal with and when Loki came back out they were going to ignore _whatever that word was_ and focus instead on the terrorist organisation that had fixated on Tony. For some completely unknown reason. The group was crazy; Loki had said as much. It wasn’t because he meant anything significant to Loki. He was just the American Fandral - an amusing business associate. Nothing else.

His mind could very well go and shut the fuck up if it wanted to contest otherwise.

* * *

Tony gave Loki an hour in his room before he decided ‘ _fuck it_ ’ and stopped fiddling nervously with the dinosaur. He put the newly dubbed ‘Rex’ down on the table and heading into the hallway. He soon reached and scowled at the closed door before knocking loudly on it. “Loki!” He shouted, “There’s a terrorist organisation with former access to chemical bombs after me. Either get your ass out to the living room or let me in, we need to talk about my potential death here!"

He’d initially planned to give Loki some space. The kind that was owed what with having an enemy from your past crop up, but not only did he not know the etiquette or protocol for that kind of thing, he was also fairly sure he was liable for a waiver when said enemy was _out to kill him too_.

The last sixty minutes had been spent in a constant state of expecting people with balaclavas to break in and stab him. He wanted Loki to come out and assure him that not only was he safe but that Loki had beaten them before and would do it again. He needed Loki to have a plan and be a bigger, badder criminal than this fucking _Malekith_ guy.

Instead Loki had decided to hide in his room after being a _little_ upset about maybe starting to say a word neither of them were ready to hear. A word that Tony wasn’t acknowledging even happened. So, see? There was no problem.

Tony knocked again. “Loki-” The door was pulled open and Tony let his hand fall, finding himself face to face with the other’s dangerous glare. He grinned brightly. “Oh, good, you didn’t use the escape tunnel and leave me to my doom.” Loki’s perplexed face was _almost_ worth being left alone for an hour after being told a crazed terrorist cell was after him. _Almost._ “Did you know, Loki that it is fucking _rude_ to tell someone that a bunch of crazy psychopaths are after them? Not to mention that you added that _said_ psychopaths tried to blow up London, almost succeeded, and then disappeared for years without anyone the wiser?” Loki opened his mouth to speak, but Tony steamrolled over the attempt. “Then,” he insisted, “after delivering that _delightful_ news, you _left them alone_ to digest that information in a house that _suddenly_ didn’t seem so fucking _safe_ anymore.”

He was sucking in a breath to continue on his rant when Loki’s hand came down on his shoulder, much more gently than he would have expected. Surprised, Tony glanced down at it. “Anthony,” Loki said softly and apologetically, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was surprised and,” Loki quickly let go of him, and Tony glanced up in time to catch his grimace, “made mistakes.” He was clenching the hand that had touched Tony. “Don’t think I was planning to abandon you, truly, I’ve actually spent the time trying to gain further information on Svartalfheim’s numerous locations.”

Tony really wanted to stay angry, but he couldn’t find it in himself. His mind was already whirring with the need to figure out, unearth, and battle an enemy. “What did you find?”

Loki hesitated. “I’m not sure I should say. You didn’t wish to know last-”

“Yeah, fuck that.” Tony lightly pushed Loki aside so he could enter the room. “You got it on the laptop?” Only waiting long enough to hear Loki’s response, he sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbed the computer, and started skimming through Loki’s documents. “Okay. Fuck, five bases already?”

“They’re small,” Loki told him. “They don’t have the funds or presence to truly expand in this country.” Loki answered, pacing in front of Tony. “Locating all of them will be the key. Most of these bases are focused around the city.”

“They kept close to you.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “Their target isn’t destruction of the civilised world any longer, just myself.”

“And me,” Tony added absently, flicking a few keys to shift between Loki’s other programs, growing more impressed by the moment. “This is a beautiful piece of technology.”

Loki waved him off. “I would be happier with it if it gave me Malekith’s location.”

“You can’t blame the hardware for that.” Tony flashed Loki a brief smile, finding the other standing and staring pensively at the wall, his hand covering his mouth and thumb stroking just above his lip. “What’s the best way to take these guys out?”

“I have numerous associates who know of Svartalfheim’s reputation and will be happy to squash them. Brief alliances won’t be hard to come by, the _priority_ will be finding and neutralising Malekith and at this point, I don’t trust anyone with that task but myself.” He frowned darkly. “My concern will be attacking his forces but letting him slip away in the chaos. I cannot afford to let him lie back down and wait again.”

Tony found that treating the conversation like a frustrated 3 a.m. discussion with Barnes was easier than acknowledging how different it was. That ‘neutralise’ to Loki meant kill and that ‘numerous associates’ referred to hardened criminals. Loki also seemed lost in his thoughts as he didn’t notice what he was letting slip to Tony. Normally he’d be using fancier terms or just plain distancing himself from his empire. This, right now, was the criminal who was organising the mass attack and slaughter of a group of terrorists.

The fact that they were terrorists who would have no qualms with blowing up a city made it easier for Tony to handle. Barnes had pulled missions like that with the Special Forces, and Tony was still friends with him. This was no different... well, unless Tony counted the fact that part of the reason Loki was waging a war in the first place was to _protect Tony_.

It really shouldn’t have made Tony feel all warm inside.

“Right,” Tony forced himself to focus on the problem at hand as he looked at a map of the bases. “If you attacked a base, maybe under the cover of gang warfare or something, do you think he’d know it was you?”

“Quite possibly,” Loki admitted. “I was instrumental in the operation that stopped him last time and while we hit all bases simultaneously back then, he’d likely be suspicious of my involvement at even the smallest level.”

Tony thought about it, frowning at the screen. “Would it matter if he did know?”

“In what way?”

Tony shrugged slightly. “He might be insane, but he doesn’t sound stupid. The fact I’ve disappeared means he’s aware that you know something’s wrong. If you started attacking him back, would that make him run or would that make him more likely to come out of the shadows?” Tony caught Loki’s thoughtful gaze. “He seems like the kind of guy who’d accept your gauntlet.”

“It might work,” Loki agreed, but he didn’t look convinced.

“But?”

“But if my actions cause him to retreat, Anthony, it would mean you are no closer to being able to leave the protection that this house offers you.” He’d began pacing the length of the bed again. “I could not guarantee he, nor one of his members, wouldn’t have a gun aimed at you within a day of your return.” He flicked his eyes to Tony before darting them away. “I couldn’t let you leave knowing that.”

Tony had anticipated as much, and he also wasn’t thrilled at the idea that a sniper could be sitting on the roof opposite his apartment if this guy was left running around, but he didn’t want to be stuck here forever either. It was nice, but it wouldn’t remain that way, and more importantly: “If you _don’t_ do something, he might find me here and kill me anyway. It’s the whole ‘best defence is an offense’ kind of situation.”

“I don’t like it,” Loki argued.

Tony just snorted. “Well, neither do I, but unless you’ve got a more reliable plan for getting him, you’re going to have to start actioning this one.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” Loki demanded. “I can’t leave you here alone.”

“Oh?” Tony’s eyebrows had shot up. “How is it any different than it was five days ago?”

Loki shook his head angrily and his steps became quicker. “He is resourceful and embittered. No one else knows of this location, but I cannot be _certain_ he won’t find some trail somewhere to exploit.”

“Well then we’ll just have to make sure we stop him first, _and_ that you double-check your records to make sure this place is protected.”

“It’s not that simple,” Loki snapped, and Tony was certain he was a second from wearing a hole in the floor. Tony knew he always worked better with documents and facts in front of him. Maybe Loki would be the same? At the very least explaining all the information he’d collected would get Tony up to speed and offer him the chance to calm Loki down with logical arguments and back up plans.

“Loki, hey, Lokes,” he caught the other’s attention and gestured him over. “Sit down. You’re making me tense, and I want you to explain everything you’ve already done so far.”

Tony hadn’t really thought through just what bringing Loki back to his surroundings would actually entail, mostly because he’d kind of forgotten just what their surroundings _were_. The way that Loki suddenly stared at him - like he was trying to reconcile what was in front of him with real life - made Tony pay attention to what he was doing; namely, sitting in Loki’s room on his _bed_.

 _Oh, right_. Tony suddenly saw things with a new light, and God, he itched to swivel his head and examine the room in more detail. Would there be any personal touches? What about that list Loki had mentioned? But no, that could come later. The main focus right now was getting Loki over his panic about not only Malekith but probably about having Tony so close to where he wanted him. _And let’s not think about that either,_ Tony warned himself.

“Loki,” he called again, quieter, “please sit down so we can figure out how to stop Malekith.”

Loki gestured behind himself but his eyes never left Tony’s as he offered lowly, “I can bring in a chair.”

He couldn’t help his small smile at the suggestion. “It will be easier if you’re closer. We’ll need to share the screen.” Loki was still clearly undecided about what to do so Tony scooted over to make room for Loki, visibly indicating for Loki to sit beside him.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to pat the bed, but he didn’t seem to have to. The action of making a space seemed to have been the only temptation Loki needed before he was walking over and sitting beside Tony on the mattress. They weren’t close enough to touch, and Loki was sitting woodenly but Tony wasn’t about to have it. He shifted until their legs were flush, pushing the laptop until it was shared between them and pulling up the word document that Loki had been filling with notes earlier.

“What did you mean by this one?” Tony asked, pointing to a specific dot point and refusing to let discomfort settle. Loki was still watching him like he couldn’t fathom the situation he was in. Tony nudged Loki’s shoulder until he brought owlish eyes from their legs up to Tony’s face. “Lokes? I might have to seek out another criminal mastermind if you’re going to keep this up. You’re not shorting out on me are you?”

Loki dropped his head, using the excuse of fiddling with the laptop and nudging Tony’s hand aside as his reasoning. “That won’t be necessary, Anthony, I assure you.”

“Well, come on then,” Tony flashed him a conspiratorial smirk. “Let’s rip this guy’s organisation to pieces.”

Much to Tony’s relief and internal thrill, Loki finally came back to the room and the genius man he was. He also matched Tony’s expression with a dangerous and confident grin of his own. “Yes, let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot ~thickens.
> 
> ~~(And wasn't Loki damn adorable in this chapter?)~~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously! This is chapter fifteen! Only seven more to go! Aaah! I'm both excited and a bit saddened at that knowledge. *sniffs* My bb's almost fully posted :|

They spent the rest of the day and into the evening in Loki’s room planning attacks, discussing options, and coming up with all the future steps and potential backups that they could possibly need. Loki’s bed ended up a warzone covered in miscellaneous documents and - because Tony was prone to visual displays, much to Loki’s amusement - figurines used for enactments.

The hours passed quickly and conversation was carried with them out of the bedroom. They refilled their mugs in the kitchen and ate leftovers, leaning over the kitchen bench while continuing to reject and present new ideas to each other. Tony would gesture with his forkful of food, Loki would scowl and hand him the roll of paper towels to mop up his spilled meal, and thirty minutes later, they would be back rubbing shoulders as they bent over the laptop.

It was easy for Tony to forget that they weren’t just planning a hypothetical campaign. It was easy for him to lose track of time with the glare of a computer screen reflecting off their conspiratorial smirks and wicked genius. It was Loki who brought him back to reality; although he was sure the other hadn’t meant to. They’d both been yawning, and Loki had mentioned, offhand, “We’ll need our rest. I want to be certain I can leave you here safely if I’m going to take care of their largest compound.”

_I need to make sure you’ll be fine while I go blow up that warehouse like we talked about._

Tony must have gone quiet without realising as he felt a soft touch to his arm; they’d lost that barrier as the day had passed, too busy handing things to one another, leaning over, and shoving a shoulder to get attention. “Anthony?”

Catching Loki’s eyes, Tony sent him a thin smile as he admitted, “Just getting used to the idea I’m helping to order the slaughter of a bunch of terrorists.”

Loki looked look a deer in the headlights, and the hand on Tony quickly fell away. “I, uh,” seeing Loki lost for words made a small smirk catch the corner of Tony’s mouth. Loki didn’t seem to notice it as he glanced away from Tony. “I’m not _necessarily_ going to follow your ideas.”

It was a nice try, but it was total bullshit. “Of course you are.” Loki snapped his attention to Tony, looking genuinely ready to protest just for the sake of Tony’s comfort. “We’ve planned this too well for you to change anything now. “

“Things may come up that cause me to alter-”

“And we came up with backups for that,” Tony interrupted. “Thanks for the attempts,” he shot Loki a smile, “but these deaths are as much on me as they’ll be on you.”

“You are not pulling a single trigger,” Loki insisted. “You are vaguely outlining a means of stopping them. Death might be an outcome _I_ am holding in mind, but the majority of these plans would function perfectly well without lethal force.”

“But we both know that’s not what you’re aiming for.”

Loki’s expression twisted and he looked away, but Tony could still see the scowl as he admitted, “If I knew they could live without still causing potential threat to you, I would not kill them.”

Tony was surprised. “What?”

“You do not want others dead,” Loki bit out, “if things could occur in a way to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I would adjust the plans to include it.”

 _Are you actually saying you_ wouldn’t _kill for me?_

This time it was Tony’s turn to be speechless. What did you even say to that? Thank you for not mass-murdering for me when you can avoid it? Thank you for doing it when you can’t to protect me?

“Um,” Tony mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter, Anthony, it is merely the state of things. I’m only telling you to try to ease your guilt. This is _not_ your burden to bear, do you understand me?”

Tony scoffed and pushed off the bed, but he still turned to face Loki. “I get what you’re trying to do, but it’s bullshit, Loki. This _is_ going to be on my conscience, and we don’t have another choice. It’s nice what you’re doing, but spare me the coddling. We both know how this is going to end.”

“I am _not_ coddling you,” Loki argued, getting off the bed as well. “If I could keep you from this anymore than I already have-”

“You would, I know, I get that,” Tony interrupted. “What _you_ don’t seem to understand is you can’t exactly retract everything that’s already happened. I’m here, I know about Malekith, and I chose to help plan his destruction because it _needs_ to be done, and I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.” Tony ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like that it’s going to end with a lot of people dying, but I’m not stupid enough to put my life on the line for the sake of my conscience. If I die, I won’t have principles to worry about; I’d much rather live and take my chances with the guilt.”

Loki had a stubborn, angry frown and had crossed his arms; he wasn’t quite catching Tony’s gaze as he bitterly cursed himself. “I should never have gotten you involved.”

Oh no, Tony wasn’t having that.

Stalking over to the other, Tony physically grabbed Loki’s arms and pushed them back to his sides. Loki’s surprised eyes met his own narrowed ones. “Hey. I didn’t exactly see you _dragging_ me into this room.”

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have told you who was after you-”

“Right, so instead of having a _good_ idea of who was killing me you’d leave me in the dark and defenceless?”

“I would not have them kill you at all!”

“Which is why we made the plan we did.”

“A plan I should have made by _myself!_ ”

“But you didn’t!” Tony poked him hard in the chest. “We’re in this together, Loki. So stop trying to shove my head under the sand.”

“You-”

Noticing the tension in Loki’s form that usually indicated he was about to start a good pace, Tony retracted his index finger and grabbed Loki’s shoulder instead, cutting the building rant off and forcing him to stay where he was. “Loki,” he softened his voice, “you can’t protect me from everything. I appreciate the attempts-” he smiled slightly. “I’m really, _really_ grateful when it keeps me alive, but this is the way it is. Stop trying to fight it; we’ll only end up fighting each other.”

Loki had opened his mouth halfway through, probably to rebut, but ended up deflating by the end. He closed his eyes on a sigh. “I don’t like this being a cause of regret for you.”

There was a whole lot more than Malekith’s death being covered in that sentence, and Tony wasn’t unaware of it. That one sentence encased everything: the time spent with Loki in this house, the association with Loki himself, and all the little moments they’d shared both before arranging Malekith’s demise and during it.

Tony let his eyes canvas the room - the bed was almost identical to his own only with different coloured sheets: not green, surprisingly, but a deep blue. The whole room really was bland and had very little of _Loki_ in it. There was a closet, a chest of drawers filled with everything but clothes it seemed, based off the way Loki had grabbed a new laptop cord out of it instead of grabbing the one from the living room. Tony could see the famed bedside drawer with its ‘in case of emergency’ list, but Tony really hoped he’d never have to look at it.

He _liked_ it here. He liked _Loki_ , damn it. The whole thing might be careening toward a train wreak and bursting like a bubble, but regret it? No, Tony wasn’t going to be able to do that; if anything, remembering his time with Loki was going to counteract his remorse over the deaths far more than it reasonably should. Tony turned his attention back to the man beside him. Loki’s eyes were focused on his face, and while he quickly blinked the look away when Tony focused on him, Tony was able to catch enough of it to notice the way everything about him had become tender - and longing.

“I’m not going to regret this, Loki,” Tony promised, his voice low and slightly rough, filled with too many things he didn’t want to think about too deeply. “I _don’t_ regret you.”

The noise Loki made Tony couldn’t even describe; it was only there for a second before it was quelled, but Tony was too distracted to dissect it by the hands that came up to cup his cheek and neck. Tony would have known in an instant what the intent of that gesture was by the placement of his palms, but it was more than that - it was the look of utter _desperate want_ on Loki’s face. The blatant and all-consuming desire to kiss him in that moment, and Tony knew deep down that he wanted it too, but he also felt the panic of knowing; _but we can’t._

Because if they started, Tony couldn’t say for certain that they’d stop.

Loki though? Loki probably only saw the panic because his face kind of crumpled, and he closed his eyes, the mask sliding over the pain in his expression as he sighed and just tipped forward, pressing their foreheads together and exhaling roughly.

Tony’s own eyes fluttered closed, but he couldn’t relax the way Loki quickly had. Tony was too aware of how easy it would be to tilt up and close the distance between them, to give Loki the kiss he so obviously craved. He also wanted to cover the strong hands holding him so preciously. He wanted to lean further into Loki’s warmth and security and let everything disappear for a while.

Tony, like Loki, wanted so many more things from this moment than what they could have. So he did just what the other did - he took the only thing they _could_ have. The weight of the other’s forehead and the touch of the other’s skin - the things that grounded them to each other and gave them nothing close to enough but a piece just small enough to be _something._

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Loki whispered after a long minute of quiet. Tony opened his eyes to find Loki’s mouth a thin line. “I’m-” his lips twisted even deeper before he let go of Tony and stepped back. His green eyes became visible, and there was only a thin veneer of politeness keeping the misery at bay. “I’m,” he looked away from Tony, “respectfully requesting that you leave me for the rest of the evening.”

“Loki,” Tony started, but Loki shook his head and held up a hand, but he still wouldn’t take his gaze from the floor.

“You are in my bedroom and saying words to me that are too tempting tonight. I can’t and won’t make it any plainer. Please leave me for the evening.”

Tony felt like such a fucking asshole. _I’m tempted too_ , he wanted to say, but that wouldn’t help Loki; it would make the barriers between them even easier to rip down. He couldn’t let that happen; he needed to be the impenetrable fortress. Loki needed to think he _didn’t_ reciprocate any feelings if they were going to get through this without regrets, and without memories and actions they couldn’t forget or erase.

_Everything will be harder if you let him kiss you. Everything will be harder if you pull him onto that bed._

“Okay,” Tony answered quietly, his voice even through nothing but a fucking miracle. “Okay, goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Anthony,” was murmured to his back when he turned and headed for the door.

He wanted to look back, to see if Loki was watching him, but he couldn’t risk another look like the ones he’d already seen from Loki tonight. His fingers already tingled with the desire to take Loki’s face in his hands and kiss the heartache from his skin.

_It doesn’t matter what either of us want. It can’t happen and you just have to remember that._

Tony wished it wasn’t so hard and that it didn’t feel like his feet were dragging. He wished the place in his chest he refused to label his heart wasn’t telling him he was making the wrong decision with every step he took away from that door.

* * *

Loki had left before Tony awoke the next morning. There was an apologetic note that included further steps to take should anything happen while he was out enacting their plans. Tony had no doubt Loki had made sure he would be safe before he fled - because that’s what he was doing, running away and giving Tony space after his slip up the previous night - but it didn’t change the disappointment that settled low in Tony’s stomach.

Tony was fairly sure the house was also under Loki’s personal surveillance so he didn’t do what he wanted to, namely: curse Loki or hiss out something incriminating about his feelings and how much he just wanted Loki _back_. It was that last part that made Tony aware of how important it was Loki had left early; if he was here, Tony might do something stupid like instigate something similar to what had happened last night.

They didn’t need that.

So Tony didn’t do anything but pick up a book, fiddle with Rex, and cook meals for himself and enough for Loki when he returned. It was the same for the next few days. Loki came back every evening or two but they didn’t speak much and sat at opposite ends of the table. Loki was frazzled and frustrated the first time; the warehouse had been demolished but Malekith had escaped his grasp. He’d left again the next morning, staying long enough to speak briefly with Tony and pass him a coffee before he was out the door and gone for another twenty-four hours.

The third time he left, he was only gone for six hours before he was bursting through the front door, furious and wild-eyed. He slammed and didn’t even lock the door; Tony had to go around the pacing and muttering man to do it himself. Loki’s hand was running through his hair, and Tony swore he smelled like burning wood and explosives; making it painfully obvious what he’d been up to. Tony had a hard time turning off his forensic mind that wanted to analyse his outfit for fibres and _specifics_ and focus instead on the distressed emotions pouring off the other.

“Hey. Hey, Loki,” Tony tried, but Loki was lost in his head, his movements jerky and his mind oblivious to Tony’s gentle requests for his attention. Moving further into the living room, Tony stopped so that he was watching the other go back and forth in front of him like a tennis match. He waited until Loki was directly in line with him before he raised his voice, adding a stern, whip-like quality to the bark of the other’s name, “ _ **Loki!**_ ”

He started before swivelling to face Tony, his whole body coiled like he was a second away from snapping while his eyes were sharp, frantic points, searching Tony and the room in a way that made Loki look almost crazed.

“Just calm down, okay?” Tony tried.

Loki chuckled bleakly. “I cannot ‘calm down’, Anthony.” He started up his pacing again, this time at a less rapid but still agitated pace. “Malekith has escaped me again.”

Tony had assumed as much, but he wasn’t stupid enough to point that out. “What happened?”

“He is burrowing underground like the vile little creature I anticipated he would be. His compounds are being cleared of his followers while any further materials and plans we find - minimal though they might be - are being equally decommissioned.” Loki snarled, and the length of his steps became shorter. “He is not being tipped off, I know this much. He is simply _letting_ me attack him. He probably hopes to have me at his base, distracted, while he locates and attempts possession of you.”

"But you're not going to let that happen,” Tony assured the other.

Loki didn't seem particularly reassured, he merely grumbled, "It will not matter if I protect you for a decade if he still remains alive for a day after that date.”

"So you'll stop him-”

"How?!” Loki demanded, turning on Tony with a heavy scowl. "How can I dig this man out of his pathetic hole? Do you think I have not considered every option!? Most will not work and the few that do-” he cut himself off and pressed his mouth into a thin line.

"What?”

"They are unacceptable.”

"Yeah, but if they'll _get_ him-”

"They are not worth the risk!” Loki snapped with finality.

Tony held his tongue and tried to think logically. Wondering what Loki, international criminal that he was, would actively balk at even if it meant stopping Malekith and protecting him.

It didn't take long for the lightbulb to go off over Tony’s head.

"Me,” Tony murmured, "You'd want to use me as bait.”

"It is _out of the question_ ,” Loki insisted.

"Yeah, but it might work-”

" _No._ ”

"If we just-”

" _ **No.**_ ”

"It's my life on the line! I think I should be able to get a say on whether or not we toss it and _me_ on a mousetrap.”

"Had I been commanding you lay yourself on a wire, yes, you would. As I am telling you that it _will not happen_ , your opposing opinion will not be considered valid.”

Tony's eyebrows shot up and so did his irritation. "Not _valid?_ ”

"I am not risking your life in order to save it!” Loki informed him, his voice cracking ever so slightly towards the end.

It was the show of raw emotion that made Tony's building anger seep out of him. He slumped slightly and stared at Loki's stressed form. Tony wasn't shelving this argument permanently; there was too much to consider in it, but he could tell that Loki wasn't in the right state to handle a discussion about it. Lord knows Tony wasn't happy about the idea of throwing himself into Malekith's warpath, but the fact was that he was already _in_ that direct line of fire. They were better off drawing Malekith to them at a time and place they designated. It was the best way to gain all the advantages over the terrorist; Loki just wasn't in the right frame of mind to hear that kind of logic.

“Fine,” Tony told Loki, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Fine. Just come sit down and have lunch.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot, Anthony. I’m only here to collect some documents and establish the next movement and,” Loki grit his teeth and turned from Tony, “tell you I will need to stay away for some time.”

“What?” Tony’s shock was audible in his voice.

“I cannot have him realise where you are. I’m being careful, but the best care is to not be seen here at all. I’m sorry, Anthony, but your protection is my main priority.”

“Wait, so you’re just going to _leave me here?_ ” Tony demanded incredulously. He thrust his hand out to gesture at the room. “What if he _does_ figure it out and shows up? I’m a fucking scientist, Loki. I may know how to shoot a gun but that doesn’t mean I can fucking defend myself against terrorists!”

“He will not find you.”

Tony glared at him. “What if he does, huh? What if your cunning fucking plan leaves me alone and in front of a firing squad?!”

“I have this place carefully monitored. I would know the moment he came near and could warn you accordingly.” Tony scoffed, but Loki continued, his voice a carefully controlled and utterly lethal thing. “This house can be rigged to explode within the hour. I have faith you could manage it should danger head your way, but I’d rather set it on standby before I leave and give you the means of activating it.” Tony felt the hairs on his body stand on end at what that implied. Fuck, had Loki _filled the drywall with C4?_ “Once activated there _is_ a secret tunnel that will lead you to a disguised garage which, while not quite out of the blast radius, will allow you to watch any enemies enter before you are able to flee and activate the explosives.”

“Holy fuck, Loki,” Tony breathed.

Loki just continued, “There is also - as you may have already guessed or assumed - a hidden cache of weapons in this house. I will give you a key should you need to stockpile items for your defence if escape becomes necessary.”

“Loki,” Tony tried to protest, a little overwhelmed with the information he was being dumped with.

“I should have given you access to the cache the moment I heard about Malekith,” Loki admitted, a little guiltily. “I should have trusted you more than I trusted Malekith’s inability to reach you.” He turned back to Tony. “I will remedy that now as well as run through the escape procedure with you. This way, I know you will have the greatest chance for protection in my absence.”

“And how am I supposed to contact you?” Tony asked, a little hollowly.

Loki shook his head. “You will not. Communication can be damaging and intercepted, as you well know. It will be best from this point on if I simply have a means of tracking you and nothing more.”

“You’re going to _bug_ me?”

Loki sent him a barely perceptible smile at the tone. “Come now, we both know you’re well used to the practice.”

“Loki,” Tony shook his head, “that isn’t the point. God, you have to realise this is a far more dangerous plan than-”

“No, it’s _not_ ,” Loki snapped, his eyes burning with something a step away from mania. “The chances of him finding you are slim as long as I am not here to guide him. _This_ will keep you safe; _this house_ and my _absence_ will look after you when my presence cannot.” Tony took a step towards Loki, but he was quick to move away and avoid his touch. He turned his face so Tony couldn’t see it. “Come, I will show you where the weapons are.”

“Loki,” Tony tried to protest, but he was already striding away, and Tony had to hurry to catch him. “Loki!” He was ignored the second time and Tony let out a small growl before speeding up, reaching forward, and grabbing Loki’s shoulder. He pulled on him and it was only surprise and Loki’s subconscious acceptance of the gesture that let Tony stop and turn the startled man. “Loki, calm the _fuck_ down.”

Loki looked the same way he did when he’d first come into the house: stressed, frustrated, _fearful_. He was caught up in the emotional whirlpool of knowing Tony was in danger and that his original plans weren’t working at stopping it. So Loki was thrusting an alternative one at him: a secluded and heavily armed suggestion that he was frantically hoping Tony would take. He wanted separation and artillery to protect him while Loki burned himself out chasing a man hell bent on destroying something precious to Loki. He wanted that solution to be taken more than anything, because the other one, the _better_ one was thrusting Tony into the line of fire with a bow around his neck and hoping they came out the victor in that game of Risk.

“I can’t let him hurt you,” Loki whispered brokenly, looking at Tony like he had the other night. When he’d cupped Tony’s face and held him close, desiring so much more than Tony could give him - but Tony _wanted to_ though. He wanted to cup Loki’s neck and pull the other to him so he could tuck his face into Tony’s hair and be hugged until he looked less likely to shatter.

“ _Loki_ ,” Tony whispered and suddenly thought, _fuck it_. He urged Loki closer by the shoulder, gaining a wide-eyed, disbelieving look for his actions before he slipped a hand around Loki’s back. He rested it between the other’s shoulder blades as he guided them so their chests were a hairsbreadth apart.

“What are you...?”

Tony used his free hand to urge Loki’s head down slightly so that their cheeks were pressed together. He let go after he was finished, dropping his hand back to his side but still keeping the other one where it was on his back, holding Loki in a loose embrace. Tony swallowed thickly, looking past Loki as he told the other softly, “You need it.”

 _I need it_ , was equally true, but Tony wasn’t about to admit it. He just bit his tongue, and when very hesitant hands touched his hips, he only jerked slightly. Loki retracted them, but when Tony otherwise didn’t protest he felt them cautiously make their way back. He was ready for them this time and didn’t react, just enjoyed the back of Loki’s right hand brushing the arm at his side as his long fingers gently held onto him. He felt Loki let out a shaky sigh against his neck, and the feeling made Tony’s eyes drop closed for a few savouring moments.

“You shouldn’t encourage me like this,” Loki murmured lowly, right into Tony’s ear and making him shiver. “I might try all manner of terrible things to gain this kind of comfort from you more often.”

Tony let out a harsh sound that was hardly a laugh and he had to resist the suddenly painful urge to nuzzle into the other’s neck. “I’m not sure I’m going to complain too much when you’re saving my life.” Tony licked his lips. “But I don’t like seeing you like this. It’ll be okay, alright?”

“Hah,” Loki barked. “I wish I had your confidence.” He felt another sigh on his skin. “I want you safe, Anthony, but Malekith is refusing to move from the shadows. I would bundle you out of the country if I thought you would let me.”

“Not happening,” Tony promised with a half-smile before he sobered up. “Loki, you know which plan is the safest and most likely to succeed.”

“ _No_ ,” Loki repeated again, and even though he couldn’t see it, Tony knew Loki’s teeth had been bared when he spat out the word.

Tony had to fight down a stupidly fond smile at the vehemence in Loki’s tone, the utter refusal to put him in harm’s way. The obvious care for his wellbeing was nice and all, but it wasn’t practical and to beat Malekith they, or rather, _Loki_ needed to stop letting his emotions blind him to the truth.

“Loki,” Tony murmured softly, “I know you don’t want to consider it, but it’s the best strategic option.” He could feel the tension forming in Loki’s shoulders and automatically began lightly rubbing his back to soothe him. He hesitated before just giving in and admitting, “I trust you to keep me safe.”

Loki practically melted against him at his words, leaning more into his touch and hold. The fingers on Tony’s hips flexed, and he wondered what Loki was stopping himself from doing. The way they’d moved slightly made Tony think the answer to that was _hugging him closer_ , but he wasn’t going to go too far down that path, not when Loki was moving the angle of his head so his nose was pressing lightly into Tony’s hair. “I don’t deserve your trust.”

“Yeah, you do,” Tony told him gently. “You’ve earned it and you’ve got it.” He closed his eyes and took in a careful breath of Loki; all the chemical scents of what he’d been up to, but under that the faint tang of sweat mixed in with his shampoo and cologne. “And you need to trust us both to come out on top when we lure him here.”

The grip on Tony’s hips almost became painful, but Tony didn’t let a wince pass his lips. “I don’t want him anywhere _near_ you.”

“I know,” Tony replied, “but you’ve said yourself that this place is fortified to hell and back. It’s the safest arena for a showdown.” Tony angled his head a little, his lips almost brushing Loki’s ear as he promised, “And I’ll be careful.”

This time it was Loki’s turn to shudder, but unlike in the past when his feelings and control were pushed too close to the edge, he didn’t spring back. His fingers just loosened their initial hold but continued to flex noticeably on Tony’s hips. He wasn’t even trying to hide the difficulty he was having, but he _also_ wasn’t letting Tony go - too determined to hold onto the moment rather than let it end prematurely by his own desire for more.

“I will never forgive myself if something happens to you,” Loki warned him, “nor will I be kind to those who do it. My vengeance will be dark and deadly.” He pulled back just enough that his hands were still able to remain on Tony’s hips and that Tony’s own was still pressed to Loki’s back. He caught Tony’s eyes and asked, “Are you prepared to risk that?”

Tony held Loki’s gaze steadily. He knew what this man was capable of, knew what he was not so subtly threatening. He also knew any injury to himself would likely mean more time in Loki’s care as he kidnapped and scared the crap out of any doctors he needed to - if he didn’t already have legally grey-minded ones on call. Tony knew all of that, and he _also_ knew that Loki was just trying to throw up one more roadblock and give him one final scare to make him reconsider being the twitching worm on the end of a hook.

He thought he could out manoeuvre Tony.

Tony just smiled brightly. “I’ll just have to make sure not to get hurt then.”

The smallest, unhappy frown was how Loki responded to his decree, followed by a disgruntled, “Very well then.” Tony expected Loki to pull away and break their hold, but to his surprise, a sort of open hesitancy took over Loki’s face as he very gently tugged Tony forward by the hips. Loki watched him carefully, noting his raised eyebrows and turning his gaze away in response. “A little longer, if you may.”

He ducked in without waiting for a reply, bringing their cheeks back together and making their chests actually brush for a moment. Tony’s surprised, ‘ _ah, sure_ ’ was murmured against Loki’s neck and caused the other to lose the majority of his tension.

He didn’t say thank you this time, like he usually did when Tony allowed him something Loki thought he didn’t want. He just held Tony close to him as they stood quietly in the middle of the room. Loki’s breathing took some time to become even as did his tense muscles to fully lose the weight that had been resting on them.

Even when Tony knew Loki didn’t need the comfort of the half-hug anymore, he didn’t say anything and neither did Loki. They both just closed their eyes and stayed in the embrace for the longest time, ignoring what pulling apart meant, ignoring what plans they’d need to start putting into motion when the serenity of the other so close was no longer available.

_I don’t want anything to happen to either of us._

Because Tony didn’t know what he would do if Malekith or any of his followers managed to hurt Loki. All he knew was that the sheer idea of the man in front of him being injured put his heart into a vice and made him want to hug Loki tighter until he knew he’d stay safe.

No. It wasn’t just Loki that desperately needed that hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at all their hugging and all of Loki's _pain_ *evil smile*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go. You ready? You're going to have to be...

That evening ended painfully. Loki led him to his bedroom in a journey that was filled with silence. Tony turned and looked at where Loki was lingering by the door frame.

They’d spent a good few hours arranging how they were going to lure Malekith to the safe house, and while Tony had always had a vague thought, he now knew for certain that Loki bit his bottom lip when he was nervous. He was very good at stopping himself when he started, but Tony still found himself leaning against Loki’s shoulder more often than not, attempting to keep Loki focused and trying to stop him from springing some new plan on Tony. Considering the guy had kidnapped Tony to keep him safe, he wouldn’t put it past Loki to suddenly send him to New Zealand to keep him away from Malekith.

“Loki?” He asked the loitering man.

The words tumbled out of him. “Are you sure? We can still change this, Anthony.”

Tony wanted to reach out and comfort the anxiety out of Loki, but he knew a hug would only be a temporary remedy. He also didn’t have much faith in himself letting Loki go. He sent him a confident smile instead. “It’ll be fine, Loki. We’ve got this.” His smiled gained a little amusement. “With the small arsenal and the set up you’ve got here, I dare _S.H.I.E.L.D._ to beat you.”

It had been the only funny part of the day, watching Loki’s slightly embarrassed shifting on his feet when he’d shown Tony the pile of weapons that could easily arm a whole team of Special Forces. He’d spluttered and stared at Loki with shock as he shuffled Tony away from it as soon as he could. He’d accused Loki of being a squirrel with an armoury fetish; that at least had made Loki crack a grin.

Honestly, when Loki made a safe house, he made a _safe house_. The plans of the original building had been extensively renovated by Loki to make a twisting, terrifying, and practically impenetrable fortress with nasty surprises enclosed even if you _did_ get inside. Loki had tripwire and poisonous darts that shot from the ground and scarily modified bear traps that could be laced with powerful drugs to knock people out.

Loki was, in two words, _competently paranoid_.

He could see why Loki thought he could be left here safely and why not activating his outdoor protections to let Malekith into the inner sanctum was scratching at his skin. Tony still thought it was the only way they’d get to stop Malekith some time this decade.

“I don’t like this, Anthony,” Loki told him, for possibly the hundredth time.

“Do you have a better idea with a higher likelihood of success?” Loki didn’t reply; his frown just deepened. “It’ll be fine.”

He let out a frustrated breath before asking, “Promise me, if it looks like we are losing, you will use the escape tunnel I showed you.”

“Only if you come with me,” Tony answered instantly.

Loki shook his head. “I will need to distract them while you-”

“Sorry, not an option; it’s either both or neither.”

“You will not _need_ to run if I am fine.”

Tony grinned widely. “Then don’t get in a position where you’re not.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed out sternly, “Anthony.”

“Loki,” Tony responded sweetly and received a glare for it. He dropped the look from his face and told Loki. “Look, I wouldn’t leave without Barnes, and I won’t leave without you.”

“I won’t _initiate_ this plan if you do not give me your promise.”

“I could lie though,” Tony informed him with a shrug.

“ _Indulge_ me,” Loki bit out through clenched teeth.

Tony smiled and stepped closer so that he could lightly squeeze Loki’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine, and I’ll make sure to keep myself safe, okay?”

Closing his eyes on a sigh, Loki asked, “That is the best I can gain from you, isn’t it?”

“‘Fraid so.”

Loki opened his eyes and to Tony’s surprise, he reached out and lightly cupped Tony’s cheek. He stared intently at Tony. “Please, Anthony, not just for me but for all the others in your life, take utter care in this.” Tony felt tongue-tied and could barely get out a small jerk of a nod, caught as he was by that warm palm on his cheek and Loki’s green eyes begging desperately for his safety. “Alright,” Loki agreed unhappily, “I’ll begin this in the morning.” Loki’s eyes fell to his hand and lightly stroked with his thumb over Tony’s cheekbone before he dropped the touch. “Goodnight, Anthony.”

He stepped back, and Tony barely got out a croaked _‘good night’_ before Loki shut the door on him.

Tony didn’t know what Loki did for the rest of that evening, but Tony spent a good few hours lying sleepless in bed wondering if he was making the wrong decision and hoping fervently that he wasn’t.

* * *

It took three days for Malekith to take the bait. It was a testament to Loki’s skills as a liar and his ability to give the illusion of an accidental leak of information. They’d both been waiting with nervous tension, running over the battle plan and trying to pretend they weren’t ready to jump at every sound.

Loki knew his perimeter alarms were perfect and wouldn’t be noticed by the enemy, but it didn’t stop him from constantly walking around armed. Tony missed the casual, relaxed nature of before; now Loki was only ever dressed in combat gear. He was fairly sure Loki _slept_ in it too. Loki had also made sure Tony had a gun in his room at night and that he always wore an earwig so that they could communicate no matter where they were on the property. As he’d said: _competently paranoid_.

Their "good night"s in the evenings now mirrored the one they’d shared after first deciding on the plan - Loki lingering by his door, and after a careful look at Tony, cupping his cheek for a moment before he left for his own room.

It hadn’t been more than a couple of hours since that good night, and Tony still couldn’t sleep. The clock in the room told him it was a quarter to midnight, and Tony still couldn’t shut his mind off. He also couldn’t, due to potential attack, have any lights on while he tinkered. So he was forced to lie staring at the ceiling, wondering if Loki was having a similar problem or if he had the ability to force himself asleep and awake at the drop of a hat.

 _You really shouldn’t be thinking about the guy’s bedtime habits._ He also _really_ shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like to become a part of them. _Shut up, Tony._

He was about to attempt burying his face in the pillow when Loki’s voice crackled to life in his ear almost making him leap out of bed until he remembered the communicator. “ _Perimeter alarms have been breached. They’re on the property._ ”

 _Fuck_ , Tony thought. “Got it.”

“ _Move quickly and quietly to my room. There are more exits to it than yours_.” There was a small pause. “ _Bring your gun_.”

“What if they have heat-searching?”

“ _They won’t activate it until they are closer. Move now_.”

Tony didn’t hesitate any more. He yanked open the bedside drawer and felt around for the gun. Once it was in his hand, he quickly made his way to the door. Loki had made him practice moving around the house, blindfolding him in the lead up so that he could navigate it with his eyes closed. He’d sworn about his bruised shins for the first few hours of it, but now he was grateful for Loki’s dedication as it took him barely a minute to shut the door to his room and slip into Loki’s - who was holding the door open.

“Get onto the bed with me,” Loki murmured. “If they are searching for us, it’s the image they’ll expect to see.”

Tony didn’t argue and moved quickly to lay on the mattress, Loki only a few steps behind him. It was only when they were both on the bed and Tony’s eyes were adjusting due to the bouncing screensaver light of Loki’s laptop that Tony noticed the gun resting on Loki’s chest.

“Are you planning to _snipe_ them?” Tony hissed quietly.

“Yes,” Loki answered simply. “I drilled a small hole in my wall for that express purpose.” Loki shifted slightly to better face Tony. “Once the first tripwire is activated, I’ll get in position and take the first of those who venture inside.”

“And Malekith won’t retreat when he notices his first twenty guys have become casualties?”

“No, he’ll chalk it up to my innate preparation. He’ll come inside once it becomes obvious we are fighting on more even ground.”

“You mean no landmines and sniper rifles?”

Loki’s smile was a quick, adrenaline sharp thing in the darkness. “Something like that.” He turned his head again, no doubt eyeing his phone and reading whatever was being fed into it. “When the first line is triggered, act as you would if this was not a plan.”

“You mean jump up screaming and go cry in the corner?”

“If I wasn’t trying to seem asleep, I would be sending you a withering look.”

Tony grinned, focusing on the conversation and not his mounting terror at what was about to happen. “I’ll pretend to be scolded then, will I?”

“How droll, Anthony,” Loki murmured, and Tony mustn’t have been hiding his fear as well as he thought because Loki shifted slightly, still falling within the bounds of looking ‘asleep’ and placed a hand gently over Tony’s in comfort. He didn’t say something as unknowable as ‘ _we’ll be okay_ ’ nor did he give any other kind of sentimental promise. He just let the warmth of his body serve as the reminder that they were in this together, and somehow that alone made Tony calm down. It also firmed his resolve; this was their plan, their choice, and their lives on the line. Neither of them could afford to flinch or fail.

“They’re about to reach the welcoming committee,” Loki told him, using the name he’d coined for the tripwire. Tony would have rolled his eyes but a split-second later, the large blast from the triggered explosions echoed throughout the house, and Loki commanded, “Up!”

Tony moved on instinct, taking his gun and jumping off the bed. Loki pointed at a corner of the room that was protected from the line of fire from either door. “Crouch there and aim your gun at the hallway door. Listen for any further orders.”

“I’m just supposed to sit here doing nothing?”

“There’s a laptop under the bed that connects to the electronics in the house,” Loki answered, pushing the items on top of his cupboard aside so as to make the perfect base for his rifle. “I doubt there will be much time for it to be of use, but you may find something.” Tony bent forward and pulled it over to him even as Loki insisted, “Keep your gun _ready_ and drop the computer the moment I give the order.”

“Do you need me to feed you information on their whereabouts?”

“Can’t hurt,” Loki agreed, glancing between the gun’s sight and his phone which was still relaying him information.

Tony quickly booted the laptop up from sleep mode and began navigating the system. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and Tony was almost tempted to suggest Howard try hiring him. Loki had taken the bases of a lot of programs and rewrote them for his own means. He’d also made them difficult to navigate unless you could remember the given passwords that needed to be typed in, without prompting, at certain points of the program. It was brilliant, and Tony had complimented him endlessly while learning how to use it. It was an insanely complicated system, but Tony, like Loki, was a genius and picked it up fast. He doubted many other people could work it so easily, but once he got a walkthrough by the creator, Tony thought it was better than any of S.H.I.E.L.D’s systems.

He quickly pulled up infrared surveillance of the property and got to watch the somewhat disconcerting change in colour that showed bodies that were losing their heat - and life. Tony didn’t eye those casualties long, focusing instead on the twenty or so bodies fanning out around the house. He glanced up and had to blink a few times before he could see Loki and the night vision goggles he now wore. “Eight coming up to the door, three going around on each side of the house and three more lingering a bit back.”

“Malekith and his most trusted,” Loki theorised. “Good. When I give the word you’ll activate the lights.”

Tony went to ask when exactly _that_ would be, but he was distracted by the door being kicked in. He looked down at the laptop screen and was greeted with the sight of the first two men dropping in quick succession. The third one didn’t go straight through the door, but Loki shifted and still managed to down them.

“Lights now,” he commanded while letting go of the rifle and pulling up two handguns. The back door was soon heard being smashed in as Tony did as he was ordered. Loki was a lethal vision - all in black and covered with guns and knives. He looked like something out of Badass 101 and if that was a magazine, and Loki was on the cover, Tony would shamelessly subscribe.

It was a terribly bad thing to be focused on in the middle of a soon-to-be deadly firefight, but _fuck_ , Loki was gorgeous, and all Tony wanted to do was peel him out of his combat gear and lay them back on the bed for an entirely different reason.

_No, Tony, no victory fucks. Survive this and be grateful for that alone._

“Shoot anything that enters,” Loki warned him, pulling off and tossing away the goggles.

“Wait,” Tony sat up, “where are you going?”

“To intercept them.” Pausing and looking over his shoulder, Loki had his guns raised and his eyes found Tony’s. They were weighed down with emotion, yet his smile was small but genuine. “Anthony...” he closed his eyes before saying gently, “ _Я люблю тебя всем сердцем._ ”

Tony blinked. “What?”

Loki just shook his head. “Take aim and take care.”

He didn’t say anything further as he moved to the door, pushed it open cautiously and slipped outside. He shut it behind him before, a few moments later, there was the sound of scuffling and gunfire that signalised the death of the first Svartalfheim Loki had met.

Tony took a deep breath and moved the laptop off his lap so that he’d have better freedom of movement. He still kept a weather eye on the figures in the house, specifically the group of three that were fighting in hand to hand combat and, Tony hoped, being beaten by Loki.

He noticed another one sneaking around from the front door and towards the study that connected to the bedroom Tony was in. He sucked in a calming breath, hearing Barnes' and Loki’s voices in his ear, telling him to keep his breathing even and his aim true as he rested his hands that were clasped around the handgun on the mattress off the bed. He gave himself a good view of the door and prepared himself for what was going to be his second kill. _Fuck._

The first, like this, had been in self-defence; not with a gun and only a few years after he’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D. It had also been done to protect a former co-worker. So he knew all the ways to handle the stress and recriminations it could do to your own psyche. He handled it with flying colours apparently. Barnes had been a big help, and while Loki had already known about it, he had still eyed him warily when it had come up. _You might need to kill someone._ Tony knew the risks and had promised to act accordingly.

Tony was a stubborn, selfish shit who liked living more than he cared about guilt; if someone was trying to kill him, he wasn’t about to hesitate on beating them to the trigger. Loki was also counting on him, trusted him to protect himself while Loki handled the majority of the enemy. He’d also forced Loki into this plan that he didn’t want; Tony wasn’t about to disappoint him.

Those thoughts ran through his head like rapid-fire, the same things that had been circling his sleepless mind for days. Tony was ready and knew what he was going to do. When the first creepy figure in all black and a weird white mask pushed open the door, Tony shot them straight through the chest with perfect accuracy.

There was a reason Barnes enjoyed taking him to the shooting range; he was science and maths and figures, and he could calculate how to aim with deadly precision even on a moving target.

The adrenaline of the shot soared through Tony and made his heart pound so loud it was almost the only thing he could hear. He made sure to loosen his hands enough to stop them cramping and to breathe through the majority of the rush. Another Svartalfheim came into the living room, and Tony aimed again. This time however, the intruder noticed his gun at just the wrong moment and was only clipped by the round. Tony cursed and made ready to aim again, but was startled by the other door being burst open. _Shit_ , he cursed and spun his aim around.

His instincts acted well, and he killed the man who entered, but the other Svartalfheim rushed into the room and threw a fucking _book_ at him. It was enough distraction to make him duck to the side and turn his gun too late to shoot at the injured terrorist. The man grabbed his arm and tried to wrestle the weapon from him, but Tony was scratching, kicking, and all together making it difficult for the masked man to get the upper hand. He was also aiming for the shoulder wound he’d nicked the other with to try and get an advantage.

The problem was that he wasn’t a fighter, and he was soon pushed into a corner, his hip digging into a desk and his hand soon slammed down into it until the pain forced him to release his hold on the handgun which clattered to the ground. Tony bared his teeth at the masked man and tried to wiggle free, but he was being pressed against the wall, a leg between his own and weight against his torso.

“So this is the one he so cherishes.”

Tony didn’t have to look for his blood to go cold at the voice. It was deep, accented, and devoid of all but faint curiosity. The Svartalfheim holding Tony barked something in a language Tony didn’t understand.

“A fighter,” the new voice intoned, and Tony let his eyes flick briefly to the side to find a tall man with a white, braided ponytail nodding. “There is no surprise he would choose such a man.”

The Svartalfheim’s eyes were a pale blue, and they glided over Tony like he was nothing more than an object. He said something back in that incomprehensible garble before the man holding him let go, barely giving Tony enough time to react before he was sharply hit up the side of the head. Tony felt his knees buckle at the strength of the blow, but he didn’t hit the floor. He didn’t know what happened but he was brought back from his hazy awareness when fingers dug into his hair and pulled him up until his spine was arched.

His back was pressed against a Kevlar-coated chest and that cold, foreign voice told him, “I would see you bleed out in front of him. He will know the pain I have suffered.” The muzzle of a gun was pressed under Tony’s chin and made him go very still, his breathing coming in shallow gasps around the metal. “He will pay a thousandfold for his actions.”

Tony wanted to dig his heels in, but he was forced to move, the cocking of the weapon at his throat a good motivator to behave as the injured terrorist moved out of the room first, followed by Tony and Malekith. He was shorter than Malekith but Tony wasn’t counting on that helping much, he was still a painfully effective human shield being held in a strong grip that he couldn’t shake without a distraction.

He was really, really hoping Malekith was arrogant enough to give Loki the time to save them.

They were forced to move down the hall, avoiding the fallen body of a Svartalfheim with a knife in his back to find Loki stabbing a man from behind with one hand while the other was held tight around the same terrorist’s throat.

“I have something of yours,” Malekith spoke almost conversationally, but Tony could see the way Loki’s back went stiff as a board; he dropped the still twitching terrorist and turned, the bloodied knife still held in his hand.

His face was a carefully expressionless mask as he took in the scene. His gaze lingered for a moment on Tony but not a single emotion showed. “Malekith.”

“Did you imagine to hide him eternally?” Malekith questioned, and from the corner of his eye, Tony saw the terrorist leader look down at him. “That I would not find he who could avenge Algrim?”

“Causalities happen in battle,” Loki answered, “I thought your cause was one worth dying for? Did he not believe as much?”

 _Don’t prod the fucking bear, Loki!_ Tony mentally screamed.

“He did not know the true colour of you, _Deceiver_ ,” Malekith growled, and the other Svartalfheim hissed something too. “Algrim was a casualty of _you_. Your lies and your attack has not been forgotten by my people.” Tony closed his eyes on a wince. Fuck, he could see it now. Loki: undercover, lying his way into good graces and battle plans until he could counteract them with lethal efficiency; of _course_ this guy was fucking pissed. “And you,” the murmur was breathed against his cheek, but Tony stayed silent. “Is the nature of the one you lay with haunting to you?” The gun moved to Tony’s temple, and Malekith’s lips brushed his ear. “Do you believe in the man he presents in order to gain your regard?”

“He stopped you from destroying London,” Tony spat.

“Is _that_ what he has told you?”

Tony swallowed thickly but kept the arrogance in his voice rather than the nerves. “Yeah, see, I think I’m going to believe the one _not_ about to shoot me.”

“Oh,” Malekith told him, “I will not shoot you. Such an easy death would be a mercy on this liar. I will kill you slowly with a knife and with much pain.” Tony could hear the insanity in Malekith’s voice, but he kept his eyes on Loki, hoping for some kind of signal to get them out of this. “I will make you suffer and make you blame each moment of your agony on the man before you.”

“He’s an innocent,” Loki snapped. “He has no place in this grudge.”

Malekith disagreed, trailing the gun until it was under Tony’s chin once more and forcing his head up at an odd angle. His words were a statement of fact as if it was the only proof he needed to refute Loki’s claim. “He is yours.”

 _Any fucking time now_ , Tony thought, but unlike before, he couldn’t quite meet Loki’s eyes so, it seemed stalling was the best way to go. “I’m not officially his, you know.” _Sorry, Loki_ , he added silently, _I’ll make it up to you later_. “I’m kind of a free agent. That going to win me any points?”

Thankfully, Malekith seemed curious enough to move the gun slightly so that Tony could shift his head a little. He was able to see Malekith’s eyebrows quirk. “And what point would you wish for?”

“No death, dismemberment, and otherwise painful outcomes?” he suggested hopefully.

The Svartalfheim murmured something and Malekith shot something rapidly back at him which quickly shut up his cohort. Tony took the time to scan the room, Loki was watching everything with narrowed eyes, and Tony did a quick count of bodies, wondering if these were literally the last two members of the terrorist group left alive. If they were, holy _fuck_ was Loki skilled. If they weren’t, then where the fuck were the others?

“You may live,” Malekith finally announced, his voice carrying the heavy weight of something Tony didn’t think he’d like to hear the end of. “But you will kill him instead.”

Tony’s eyes flew wide, but it was _nothing_ on the quick flash of emotions Loki couldn’t hide in the split-second before he _made_ himself. It had been enough; Tony had seen anguish and pain and dear fucking _God_ Tony hoped Loki didn’t think Tony would even consider it. Because he couldn’t; his heart had dropped like a stone, and he felt like throwing up.

“No,” Tony croaked out, “I won’t do it.”

Tony caught and held Loki’s eyes; they didn’t look surprised they just looked _emotional_. There was no other word for it. There was a storm going on behind that poison green, and it seemed he was battling himself over what he wanted to feel.

“Pity,” Malekith commented, drawing Tony away from Loki as he called over the other Svartalfheim who pointed his own gun at Tony. He stood an arm’s length apart with the gun aimed at Tony’s temple while Malekith holstered his own weapon. “The back-”

Malekith didn’t even get a chance to finish whatever speech or threat he was about to expel as the moment Malekith’s gun had cleared Tony’s head, Loki reacted. He held Tony’s gaze before dropping his eyes. It was one of their predetermined signals, and Tony acted instantly, he ripped out of Malekith’s hold and dropped to his knees the same moment a blade was thrown with deadly accuracy to hit the arm of the other Svartalfheim. A shot was fired accidentally into the wall as the man cried out. Tony used the moment to kick out at Malekith’s leg before rolling across the floor like he was on fire.

He got into a crouch quickly and looked up; ready to fight, freeze, or duck depending on the situation and the direction of a muzzle, but Loki had already taken his place. His knife was out of the Svartalfheim and was being wielding with staggering efficiency as he cut Malekith’s holster, kicked the gun towards Tony and caught, stabbed, flipped, and otherwise darted the knife around like it was magic.

Tony scrambled for and swiped up the gun, pointing and holding it between him and the others as he slid up the wall to a standing position. Keeping his back to it, he edged towards his room after making sure the path was unoccupied. The other Svartalfheim was dead at this point, and somehow Malekith and Loki were engaged in a knife fight that was holding Tony’s heart in his throat. 

_Please win, please win, please fucking **kill the bastard**_ , Tony chanted even as he noticed, sighted, and shot an approaching Svartalfheim who had tried to sneak up on Loki. _No one_ was fucking with Loki while he killed Malekith. _No one_ was even getting close or Tony was going to take care of them. _No one touches my stuff_ , he thought somewhat hysterically and almost bit out a laugh. He would have if Malekith hadn’t gotten in a good move with the knife and managed to slash at Loki’s face. A sound got lodged in Tony’s throat, but only a small, barely audible, pained cry came out. He even took a half-step forward, but Loki twirled in a way that caught and toppled Malekith. The weapon was soon pulled out of the terrorist’s hand while Loki straddled him to the ground. They struggled for a few moments as Malekith tried to keep the knife from his vital organs, hissing words at Loki and having responses fired back as well.

Tony was too distant to make them out, but even when he tried to edge closer, he didn’t have any luck as Malekith said something a step too far and Loki’s face turned into an ugly sneer. It was only the work of moments for Loki to snap a wrist, thrust his dagger home, and end the fight with the other man once and for all.

Tony stared for a long moment at Loki - crouched and panting and once more a _murderer_ before he found his eyes dragging away. They darted around the room and lingered anywhere but on the numerous corpses littering the hallway, seeping blood into the floorboards and reminding him with every second of dropping adrenaline just _what_ had happened. What _they’d_ done.

“Anthony?” Tony startled, flicking his gaze to Loki and making him wonder how long he’d been lost in his thoughts. Loki was standing now with Malekith a still form behind him. He was also nearer to Tony, lingering a few steps away with noticeable concern and a heavy grimace. He was also filthy, ripped, and bloodstained with a still-bleeding cut near his eyebrow. He looked sore and exhausted and completely oblivious to anything that wasn’t Tony’s wellbeing. “Anthony, are you alright? Are you injured?” His attention briefly skimmed the floor and his wince grew deeper. “There is no one left; you are safe. Would you like to leave the room?”

“Leave?” Tony murmured. His mind felt sluggish even as it locked and held onto the blood that was dripping down the other’s face.

“To your room,” Loki repeated carefully. He didn’t go so far as to glance around at their feet again, but the implication was clear in his next words. “It is undisturbed. You may wait there if you like?” Tony looked behind him then around at the corpses before back at Loki, feeling like his brain was _finally_ doing the right thing when he walked over to the other. He was watched very carefully as if Loki was worried something in him was about to snap. “Anthony?”

Tony stopped in front of Loki and found his hand rising without his permission but before he could touch Loki’s face, the other flinched away. Tony froze and rapidly realised what he had been about to do, Loki however, looked like he deeply regretted the action as Tony dropped his hand. He understood it though, Loki was still pumped full of the instincts that told him everything was an attack and that he couldn’t relax. Tony shouldn’t have tried to touch him.

“You’re bleeding,” Tony still explained. “I was just-”

“It’s superficial,” Loki dismissed quickly, his own hand moving to mirror Tony’s. “What of you?”

“Me?”

Loki nodded at him. “Your temple.” Tony went to touch it, having forgotten the strike to his head, but Loki’s hand moved quicker. “May I?” Tony hesitated only a moment before he nodded, letting Loki’s hand come up and cup his face, moving it carefully as he examined the small graze. His fingers were agonisingly gentle, brushing his skin more than was likely necessary as he turned him in different directions. Tony had to bite down on a small, knowing smile. “You seem well.”

“It’s superficial,” Tony parroted back, gaining a barely there smile from Loki, but he still didn’t drop Tony’s face. “Loki?” Loki’s fingers stroked his skin, and his eyes seemed almost distant, like he was remembering something and not quite seeing Tony. He tried again, his voice a little sharper, “ _Loki?_ ”

It broke Loki away enough that he blinked and held Tony’s gaze. He still didn’t let go. There was something slightly frantic underneath the word, “ _Anthony_.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Tony said softly, noticing the way that ever growing desperation slowly crept into Loki’s gaze. “I’m _okay_.”

Loki’s hand moved, slowly but firmly, to cup the back of his neck and pull him in closer. The movement was calculated to give Tony enough time to back out and was _also_ designed in a way that Tony knew it wasn’t a kiss. He didn’t know _what_ it was but he found himself tentatively letting it happen. When he found his face pressed near Loki’s neck and the other’s arm sneaking around his back, he suddenly knew _exactly_ what it was. The abrupt crash of emotion that the realisation gave combined with the knowledge they were _safe_ , had Tony’s own arms coming up and gripping at the shirt covering Loki’s back, reciprocating the hug.

The fingers at his back dug further into him and a nose pressed against the hair behind his ear, but Tony didn’t complain; he just buried his entire face into Loki’s neck and breathed in the sweat and barely there body wash. “You’re certain you’re not injured?” Loki checked again, whispering the question.

Tony nodded and breathed against skin. “Yeah, Loki, I’m okay.”

Loki let out a shuddering breath, and Tony didn’t know if it was the relief, having felt Tony’s lips and breath against his neck or a combination of both. He was analysing that when he felt the hand at his neck move before timid fingers moved into his hair, stroking it softly and making a shiver fight its way down Tony’s spine. Loki noticed it, and he paused, softly suggesting, “I can stop.”

Tony’s fingers spasmed against Loki’s back, and the hand instantly pulled back from his hair. “No, don’t,” Tony blurted, and the fingers hovered, just barely brushing his neck. Tony stared at the pale neck, and the way Loki was swallowing heavily. He arched his neck a little in welcome. “S-okay.”

The next touch was even more uncertain than the first, but when Tony just relaxed, Loki’s hand slipped back among the strands, running through them and rubbing against his scalp in a light head massage that had Tony sighing lightly and closing his eyes. He didn’t know how many minutes it lasted, but his head felt like it was on a cloud, and Tony was very happy to keep it there and keep himself wrapped around Loki.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t go on forever.

Loki was the one to break it with practicality. “I would stay here indefinitely, my _Käresta_ ,” he admitted, “but I must take care of things.”

Tony only shifted slightly. “Okay, you’re going to have to tell me what _that_ one means.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Loki disagreed.

Moving a little further so that he was almost leaning on Loki’s shoulder, he dislodged them enough that Loki could look down at him. “Why? Is it insulting?”

Loki’s mouth turned up in a slightly sad smile. “No, Anthony, it is rather the opposite.”

 _Ah_ , Tony thought. _Term of endearment, right._

It really sucked that it had to make the moment awkward, had to make him search for another topic and sober up remembering _what_ they were standing in the middle of. _Fuck_ , he thought and pushed away from Loki, feeling the other’s hands fall from him and avoiding the dejected slant to Loki’s entire face. “What do you need me to do?”

“Remain quiet and hidden,” Loki answered tonelessly. “I will make this disappear, but I would prefer it if you are not seen by those who are waiting to assist me.”

Tony frowned slightly. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Loki gestured vaguely at the room behind Tony. “I told you: it’s undisturbed. You may wait in there while I handle things. I won’t be far, and you can use the communicator to contact me if you’re in need of my presence.”

Reaching up, Tony touched the earwig, having forgotten it was even there. “How long will you be?”

A small smile touched Loki’s lips. “As quick as possible.”

“Then what?”

Just like that, the smile was snuffed out and Loki wasn’t looking at him. “I make sure everything is safe before returning you to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

_S.H.I.E.L.D._

Tony suddenly found it hard to look at Loki too. Every nerve-ending in his body wanted to leap forward and attach themselves to Loki. They wanted to curl back into his embrace and say _no, I don’t want to go_. Tony had to ignore that scratching, yearning part of him and nod instead, trying to keep his voice light but knowing it came out devoid of emotion, “Oh, right.”

“It’s what I agreed to do,” Loki spoke quickly, rushing the words out like he didn’t want them on his tongue. “It’s what you wanted me to do.”

“Yeah,” Tony answered just as rapidly, “That’s what I want.” He swallowed. “I just can’t believe it’s over, you know?”

Loki’s eyes were pinched with displeasure, even when he was doing his best not to show it - or hell, maybe he thought it was a lost cause by now. They both knew what he wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t Tony going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and being forced to sever the connection between them.

“It won’t be for a few more days,” Loki answered.

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “We can’t stay here.”

“No,” Loki agreed but didn’t elaborate, even when Tony sent him a look asking for clarification. “Rest while you can,” he said instead, “we may yet have some brief time left here while I arrange things.”

“That was really incomprehensible, Lokes.”

The nickname and the sentence all slipped out coated in fond exasperation, and at the very least, it made Loki grin a little. “Go, Anthony. I have calls to make.”

Tony wanted to stay and talk, to see if he could help, to see just _what_ Loki was going to do, but Tony knew he couldn’t. In what could only be a few hours, Tony wouldn’t be on the same side as Loki anymore. They’d have gone back to good and bad, white and black. There was no more dancing on the grey and working together to stop an enemy. There were no more hugs and nicknames and laughing dinners together.

They’d done what they’d come to do and that was save Tony from Malekith.

There was nothing left for Tony but to disappear into a room that would no longer be his and wait for a criminal to come and let him go.

But he didn’t _want_ to be let go. He didn’t want to turn his back and walk away. He wanted to _stay._

But regardless of what he wanted, Tony still found himself doing both as he slipped back into the bedroom, barely resisting the desire to punch something until the anger went away or to turn back into Loki’s arms until the hurt in his heart disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's the translation: _Я люблю тебя всем сердцем_ = **I love you with all my heart**
> 
> JUST TAKE THAT SUCKER OF A PHRASE/CONFESSION IN AND ENJOY ♥
> 
> I hope you also enjoy the ~Malekith battle. I know a few of you were expecting kidnapping or more drawn out fighting... but do you really think Loki's going to let anything happen to his man? I don't think so XD
> 
> Also fun fact: They guy/Kursed Loki stabs in Dark World is actually called 'Algrim' hence my use of that name in this, hehe.
> 
>  **EDIT - 23rd July 2016:** The fabulous _SmallFurryCreaturesFromAlphaCentauri_ pointed out to me that ' _Älskling_ ' was not being used accurately for what I wanted so it has now been interchanged with others so. We now have: _Käresta _which means **Beloved** :)__
> 
>  **EDIT - 23rd May 2018:** The _amazing_ and _incredible_ **lampwithoutlight** has drawn some fanart for Loki &Tony from this series and since it goes fairly well with this scene, I thought I'd link it on this chapter! The art can be found [here](https://lampwithoutlight.tumblr.com/post/174150024904/i-read-a-lovely-fanfiction-fractals-of-a-criminal). Please check it out and give them all the love and tumblr reblogs! :D


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had so many wonderful comments throughout this story, and I just want to once again thank each and every one of you for taking the time to tell me what you think of the chapter and the story. You have no idea how excited and happy you make me when I check my inbox and see them. So thank you so, so much. ♥

It took the better part of a half hour for Loki’s little cleanup crew to make their appearance and start handling the mini-massacre that was now Loki’s safe house. Tony spent the first part of his solitude coming to terms with what had just happened and ended up pacing the lamp-lit room and muttering under his breath. He’d forgotten he was still attached to an earwig and was startled when Loki slipped inside. 

He hadn’t said much at first, just looked at Tony before he came forward and sat down on the edge of the bed. He still didn’t speak until Tony had relaxed enough to join him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but-”

“We knew this would happen.”

“Yeah, but-”

“ _Anthony_ ,” Loki insisted. “I promise you each and every one of those that are dead would gladly have destroyed a capital city without a care for the causalities. They also would have killed _you_ had you not fought back. You have no reason to feel guilty.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “I know, I know. I just... there’s more than twenty dead bodies out there. It’s... hard to handle that.”

Loki touched his shoulder lightly, looking pained. “Anthony-”

“I’ll be fine,” Tony cut in. “Seriously, I will. Just, fuck, give me more than ten minutes to do it.”

Loki nodded slowly. “I will be here if you need me.” He removed his hand and stood slowly. “You are perfectly safe here. Rest if you need to. I’ll be keeping an eye on things.”

Tony tried for a smile. “What happens when you finish?”

“I’ll come back and discuss the next steps with you.” He gestured towards the hall. “I’ll have everyone leave the house when it’s complete, and I’ll reboot the defences again. There should be no others left to assault us, but we’ll still be secure for some time should we need to talk.”

“You’re tip-toeing. Do you think I’m going to faint like a harlequin maiden?”

Loki smirked, and fuck, Tony had missed seeing that teasing devilry even if it was only just a hint and masking all the things they didn’t want to talk about. “I would be glad to make you swoon, Anthony.”

Tony rolled his eyes but clung to the light banter. “With no horse and no flowing hair? Sorry, you don’t get a Hollywood collapse.”

“Well,” Loki teased, “I’ll make sure to purchase a horse next.” He eyes danced. “And grow out my hair.”

Unable to help his small chuckle, Tony sent Loki a real smile. “I’ll make no promises.”

Loki grinned and gave a brief nod before dropping the turn of the conversation as he touched his earwig. “This way, you’ll remain appraised.”

He hadn’t understood at first but less than a minute after Loki had left the room Tony could hear the foreign language he was speaking and the hints of replies from others. What was being said didn’t mean anything to him, but the sounds washed over him and unwound the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t realised how much even that small separation from Loki had been getting to him.

The next forty minutes passed slowly, but somehow, without his knowledge, listening to Loki had his body realising it was nearly two a.m. and _fuck_ was he tired. The adrenaline rush had passed, and now his body was very much requesting he go to sleep. He _wasn’t about to_ , not until Loki gave the all clear, but it didn’t stop the desire from happening.

Tony tried pacing the room but only ended up feeling dead on his feet. It was _ridiculous_. He’d pulled far worse all-nighters at S.H.I.E.L.D., but then again, he’d also had something to do there instead of just waiting for Loki to come back. He’d also never had to fight for his life and shoot people at S.H.I.E.L.D. either, so there was that mental and physical wear to consider too.

Tony knew he couldn’t just curl up and have a sleep, but damn did the bed look inviting. He ended up leaning against the wall, eyeing the bed and mentally grumbling at _when_ his body decided it wanted to sleep. It couldn’t be in the lead up to the fight when he was remembering how much he hated insomnia; no, it had to be an hour afterwards when the place was no doubt still swarming with Loki’s network of criminals that Tony wouldn’t trust as far as he could spit.

 _You do trust Loki though_ , his mind chimed in, and yeah, he did, but that just brought Tony back to _not_ sleeping until Loki said it was safe.

Tony was holding firm to that decision even if he was yawning a bit too much and maybe closing his eyes for a couple of mild catnaps. It was nice, listening to Loki’s murmurs in the background and lulling him into a mild standing doze.

It was just his luck that Loki came into the room when he was doing just that.

“Anthony?” he called gently, and Tony peeked open an eye to find Loki watching him with the fondest little smile trying to break free. His hands were crossed behind his back, and at some point he’d wiped his face of blood and grit. He still looked tired, maybe not as much as Tony felt, but it was visible in his eyes - the exhaustion that came with the relaxation of victory. “You need not have ignored the bed.”

Tony shrugged. “Was waiting for you.”

Loki’s eyes widened, and he needed to clear his throat before continuing with his eyes focused somewhere near Tony’s shoulder. Tony felt slightly sheepish; he guessed he could have chosen a better wording. “You have time to have a small sleep before we move locations.” He took a step closer and held out a hand as if to gesture or even offer to guide him. “The house is protected once more and none of the men and women guarding it will dare enter without permission.”

Tony eyed the bed longingly, and Loki stepped closer, lightly taking his shoulder and encouraging him to walk towards it. Tony let him even while asking, “What about you?”

“Me?” His eyebrows were furrowed.

“You’re tired,” Tony stated.

Loki just shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Tony narrowed his eyes and very pointedly yawned, watching with some satisfaction as Loki had to clench his jaw to stop his own responding one from slipping out. “You need a rest too,” Tony insisted, “you’re probably not even going to sleep when we get to the next place, are you?” Loki’s eyes shifted guiltily, and it only firmed Tony’s resolve. “I won’t sleep unless you do.” 

Sighing, Loki pulled back the bedding in lieu of replying. He motioned Tony climb onto the mattress, but Tony just crossed his arms instead. “Anthony,” Loki exhaled sadly, “I appreciate your concern, but it will not be possible.”

“Why?”

Loki’s exasperation was palpable. “You are tired. Will you not climb into the bed?”

“No. Explain why you won’t sleep when you’re also tired?”

“My room is not conducive to sleep at this time,” Loki explained shortly. “I also would prefer to be near you should anything happen. Please, leave it be. I will be fine.”

Tony’s eyes dropped to the bed and remained there as his mind cycled through options but continually tripped, stalled, and otherwise brought him back to the only logical solution. He also latched onto it because it was an outcome he _wanted_. The moment it had slipped into his mind, Tony knew it was the only way he’d be able to get any kind of restful sleep.

“How do you plan to be near me?” Tony asked and dragged his eyes back to the other. “I’m not having you creepily watch me sleep from a corner.”

“I wouldn’t-” Loki protested, looking affronted.

Tony interrupted him. “How do you plan to stay ‘near me’ then?”

Loki’s mouth opened and closed before he swallowed and answered, “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, fuck that. We both know that’s a stupid decision.”

Tony knew he was pretty filthy, but he figured this would be the last time he slept in this bed. He’d shower when they arrived at wherever the fuck they were going. Climbing onto the bed, he scooted over to the furthest side. He didn’t go so far as to lie down yet, just sat and looked over at Loki.

He hadn’t clicked yet; his eyes were too busy roaming over Tony. When he finally came back to Tony’s face, his own was clear of emotion. “What would you have me do?”

“We both need sleep,” Tony gave a one shouldered shrug and hoped he was hiding his nerves. “I’m a pretty capable guy, but I also like the idea that I’m safe as fuck with you around.” He swallowed carefully. “And I trust you.” Loki was still frowning with the kind of confused disbelief that let Tony know he was drawing conclusions he couldn’t fathom were accurate. Tony cracked a smile. “We’ve already shared a bed once tonight.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “But that was-”

“Loki, just shut up and get on the bed,” Tony ordered him while kicking back the covers and wiggling slightly until he was lying down comfortably.

He glanced over at Loki whose hands were twitching as his eyes flicked over the mattress like he was fighting with himself. Tony didn’t say anything, just gave him the minute he needed before he sat down tentatively on the mattress. When Tony didn’t speak he shifted until he was also on his back, turning off the lamp seconds before he did. There was still enough light to see by after a few blinks, and Loki hardly looked relaxed, but Tony figured letting him have his small steps was the best way to go. The other thing, Tony knew, was his own comfort; everything Loki did was only after checking fifty times with Tony to see if he was fine so he’d need the confirmation of that or he’d bolt.

It was nice that he’d do that, but Loki needed a bit of a reward too; so Tony shifted, moving to lie on his side and face away from Loki. He let Loki have the time to run through whatever it might be doing to his emotions in private. Tony knew Loki was fucking _shit_ at keeping back how much he felt when it came to getting something, anything, from Tony. He also knew that seeing those emotions in Loki’s eyes was becoming harder on Tony’s own restraint.

So taking in a breath, Tony let it out slowly and closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to know how little time he had to sleep, so the best thing to do was to take as much as he could, even if it suddenly felt hard to do that. The knowledge that Loki was _right there_ beside him felt so encompassing that it was hard to shut his mind off from it.

It took him a few minutes before he managed to focus on his own breathing and get his mind to settle down; he wasn’t quite dozing, he was still a little too keyed up for that when he felt the mattress move. It wasn’t enough to bother him until he felt an arm curl around his side as a hand moving to be placed lightly on his chest. Tony’s eyes snapped open, and he stared unseeingly at the wall in front of him as Loki drew him back slightly until his back was flush against Loki’s front.

Tony didn’t know what to expect, his breath was held in his chest but all Loki did was hold him. It was like the hug of before, just keeping him close and assuring himself they were okay. He could feel Loki’s too even breathes on his neck, his conscious control over himself as his arm lay tense and unsure around Tony.

_I go back soon._

The thought cut through any other white noise in Tony’s mind and Tony reacted before he could think, shifting to turn and making Loki drop his touches like he’d been electrocuted. He moved back instantly, giving Tony all the room he needed to face Loki again.

Loki looked like he’d been kicked in the heart; angry and upset with himself as well as apologetic. “Anthony, I-”

Tony ignored the words as he shuffled the few inches he needed to brush their chests together. He felt Loki’s startled intake as he carefully slotted his face against Loki’s neck like he had before while bringing an arm to wrap around Loki’s waist and hold him close. He could practically feel Loki’s frantic pulse as he brought his arm back around Tony in a loose embrace.

“You’re sure?” Loki whispered.

Tony had to be careful not to press his smile to Loki’s skin. He didn’t have to worry about his eye roll being seen. “Go to sleep, Loki.”

He felt Loki’s chin rest lightly on top of his head, and Tony closed his eyes, letting out a peaceful exhale against the other’s neck. Wrapped around Loki he felt protected, warm, and - fuck it all, _happy_. It wasn’t going to last more than a couple of hours, but it was the only chance he was going to get to really hold Loki like this again.

Tony almost wished he wouldn’t fall asleep, but even when Loki was fully clothed, and he wasn’t much better, Tony was just too comfortable to fight his fatigue for long.

* * *

“Anthony.”

Tony woke up to Loki lightly calling his name. He blinked a few times and brought up a hand to rub his eyes and cover his mouth. Loki was smiling at him with delight, taking in every aspect of how he woke up. It took Tony a few seconds to remember how they’d fallen asleep and a few more to realise Loki was brushing fingers through his hair.

He didn’t bother commenting on any of that, mumbling, “How long I sleep?”

Loki looked charmed at his rough voice and lack of proper grammar. “Perhaps three hours? It is just past four.”

“Is there time for coffee?” Tony wondered groggily, unable to stop himself from burying his face back into Loki’s neck, complaining childishly, “I don’t wanna get up.”

Loki chuckled, and the hand slipped from his hair to run down his spine, making Tony arch slightly into it. “Nor do I, I assure you.” Loki sighed. “I would stay here..." he trailed off for a moment before continuing, "but we truly must leave.”

Tony didn't ask about it. He just groaned out a single word, “Coffee?”

He felt something against his hair and blinked at the idea he might have just had a _kiss_ brushed there. “I will make you some, _Hjärtanskär_.” He pulled back, slowly untangling them even as his hands brushed every spot he could without ever once veering into something indecent. It was just a desire to touch all he could before they were forced to part. Tony blinked again as Loki’s face came into focus, smiling gently. “I will be back. Grab anything you may like to take and freshen up if you wish to.”

Loki remained a few moments more, looking over Tony’s sleepy features before brushing the pads of his fingers down Tony’s cheek affectionately. He rolled off the bed after that and barely straightened his clothes before he was leaving the room, far too awake for someone who’d only been asleep for two hours.

_If he even slept._

“He still shouldn’t be that awake,” Tony complained into the bedding. He closed his eyes for a moment but feared falling back asleep. _And what the hell was that new name anyway?_ He wondered, but soon gave up even trying. It wasn't like he'd hear a translation any time soon, it was just one more _endearment_ to add to the list. The idea made him shiver and he groaned at the reaction. _Just great._. He decided to just ignore it and pushed onto his hands and knees before crawling to the edge of the bed and forcing himself off the mattress and towards the hallway.

Tony was rubbing his eyes when he reached the ajar door, hoping cold water would help wake him until he could get coffee. He froze however when he caught sight of the hallway: it was spotless. The Svartalfheim attack could have been a dream for all that there wasn’t any evidence of them. _Holy fuck_ , Tony thought, _this is why we can’t ever catch him_. Tony’s eyes drifted to Loki’s room. _Not conducive to sleep my ass_. It hadn’t had a thing to do with the bed but probably had everything to do with not wanting to let Tony out of his sight; which, damn it, it wasn’t like Loki had _lied_ about being unable to sleep. Ugh, he was too tired to deal with this. He also didn’t _want_ to deal with Loki’s ability to clean up a crime. It wasn’t good for his head or his heart.

Resolving to ignore it, Tony went straight to the bathroom, a little bemused to notice a hole in the drywall from a bullet; at least it proved Malekith _had_ happened. Washing his face and not much else Tony went to find Loki, pausing only long enough to slip into the living room and grab his current book and Rex. Loki was watching him from the kitchen and held out the mug of coffee.

“Are you ready?”

Tony paused halfway through his first sip. He finished it and asked, “Huh?”

“We will leave now. It will take some time to reach our next destination.” He looked at the items in Tony’s hand. “Is that all you require? Another change of clothes, perhaps?” His eyes didn’t even skitter, so Tony could only guess he wasn’t being retained solely for Loki’s desire to have him around. “I cannot be certain how short or long you may remain with me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony agreed, not wanting to argue the point. He put down the book and Rex but kept a firm hold on his coffee. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll take these to the awaiting car,” Loki told him, making Tony pause and look back to Loki who had taken up the two items. “I’ll meet you at the door.”

Tony nodded and slipped back into the hallway and soon after his room. It felt strange to be pulling out another change of clothes. It felt _weird_ to be leaving this place. He’d only been there for a few weeks, but it felt comfortable and familiar. He was going to miss it. He was going to miss waking up and going in search of Loki. _Stop focusing on that. You can’t change it, so it’s not worth the regret._

Taking another sip of coffee, Tony quickly took what he needed and tossed the garments over the arm not holding his half-empty drink. He soon finished the last of it, his gaze hovering on the bed and the feel of Loki in his arms before he forced his way back out. Loki was where he’d promised he’d be, and he gestured Tony to leave his mug behind, which he did, feeling out of place when he wasn’t pestered until he washed it.

“What’s going to happen to this place?” Tony questioned as they made their way to a car similar to the one that had picked him up outside Ultron’s lair.

Loki briefly observed it over his shoulder, and Tony took a moment to look at the place from the outside. It was the only occasion he’d had to see it. Hell, it was the first time he’d been _outside_ since he’d arrived. Apart from the ripped up ground from the tripwire it was actually quite picturesque in a secluded criminal safe house kind of way.

“I’ll likely destroy or sell it,” Loki replied. “I cannot be certain someone other than Malekith and his followers learnt of its location. I’ll see what I can salvage and scrap over the coming days.”

Tony could understand why he’d do that, but Tony still felt a stab of regret at the idea that the house wouldn’t be around anymore. It was stupid, really. He’d never cared much for the physical parameters of a home; it was all about what and _who_ was inside it. Which was probably the more damning thing, really. He wasn’t mourning that place; he was mourning the end of his time with Loki.

“So where are we going?” Tony asked to distract himself, making his way over to the car and hearing Loki’s feet on the gravel behind him. He moved quickly enough to open the door for Tony, gaining an amused glance from him even as Tony slid inside.

Loki waited until he was sitting beside him and the door was shut to reply, “My apartment.”

Tony’s eyes widened as Loki leant forward and wrapped on the screen that separated the front from the back. The car started up a moment later.

“Your apartment?” Tony clarified.

“Yes,” Loki agreed.

“Won’t S.H.I.E.L.D. be monitoring the crap out of that?”

“Mm,” Loki hummed, seemingly unconcerned. “They have other leads to follow and no reason to suspect I’d bring you somewhere so blatant.”

“You _think?_ ” Tony wasn’t so sure, he knew Barnes’ doggedness; if he got even the slightest whiff of Tony’s location he’d be on it like Pepper Potts on inefficiency.

“Yes, Anthony,” Loki faced him. “They have never ventured to my home before. They prefer to ambush me at my offices.” He made a vague gesture at the window and the house that was shrinking in the distance. “You have seen some of my defence systems, so trust me, Anthony, you will not be noticed there. They will find you when it is safe to release you and not a moment before.”

Tony didn’t ask when that might be; he didn’t want to know the answer himself.

He focused on the scenery but couldn’t help the remark that slipped out, “No chloroform or bag this time?” He sent Loki a smirk to know he was teasing. “I actually get to look out the window?”

“I think I trust you to possess information your organisation already has,” Loki stated with amusement. Shifting the clothes off his lap and to the middle of the seat where Rex and the book already were, Tony also rearranged himself to have his back to the window and his attention on Loki. He eyed him suspiciously but mimicked Tony’s pose. “Yes?”

“We’re going to have to talk about this when we get to your place, you know.”

Loki closed off abruptly. “We will,” he concurred. “I have further things to attend to, but once they are completed, we will have that discussion.”

Tony held Loki’s gaze and forced himself to say what they were both thinking. “And then it’s back to what it was before.” He swallowed. “Until Barnes calls in his ultimatum again.”

“And then it will be nothing at all,” Loki agreed hollowly, his eyes travelling over Tony. “Anthony, I know that this was not by choice.” He bit his lip for a moment. “But I hope it was not a terrible experience for you spending the time you have with me.”

Tony couldn’t stop his smile as he put Loki’s worries to rest. “It was fun. I liked it.” He barely refrained from biting his own lip. “I liked spending time with you.”

Relief broke through Loki’s worry and transformed his face into something softer. “Good,” he whispered. “That’s good, Anthony.”

 _I don’t want us to stop talking_ , the words were on the tip of his tongue, but somehow they wouldn’t break free. It was probably the last bastion of his sanity, keeping him from saying something that would utterly fuck him over when they walked back into reality. 

“I’ll miss it,” he blurted, because apparently that stronghold wasn’t as tough as it pretended to be. Loki’s thrilled surprise was still worth it. “I’ll miss it,” he told him again, more tenderly than was wise. “I’ll miss talking to you.”

Loki’s expression was all the hallmarks of a smile but lacked any true enjoyment. “It’s not goodbye yet, Anthony. Let’s not spoil what we do have left.”

Taking it for the request that it was, Tony wracked his brain for another subject. “McDonald’s will be open right? I could use a burger.”

“Truly, Anthony?” Loki questioned with an eyeroll. “The sun hasn’t even risen.”

“That’s why it’s twenty-four hours, Lokes.”

Loki’s next grumbled response shot them down a light-hearted pathway that discussed fast-food, what constituted a good burger, and what they could and couldn’t eat for breakfast. It was a good way to spend the drive and distracted them both from the future that was looming above and before them like an angry sky.

_I wish we could be planning the dinner we’d make tonight, not all the things we’ll never cook because we’ll never be together again._

* * *

Tony knew from their files that Loki’s apartment wasn’t as ostentatious as being the penthouse of a building, but it was still an expensive, luxury apartment in a high-class part of town. The car windows were tinted so they slipped into the undercover parking garage without anyone the wiser. The ride up in the elevator was equally undisturbed and as Loki had a floor to himself, there was no one who could see them as Loki pulled keys from his pocket and let Tony into his home. 

What he saw made Tony’s eyebrows reach his hairline. It wasn’t unexpected, given what he knew of Loki, but it still somehow wasn’t what he’d pictured. It was an artful mixture of old style wood with antique decor seamlessly blended with modern pieces and architectural design. It was nice, and it _felt_ like Loki. There was enough green, gold, and black to drown in, and there were old books and various half-finished-with technologies littering the place. It was controlled chaos from a man whose mind worked too fast to be constrained to one thing.

 _I could live here_. Hell, his mind was already imposing his own furniture and imagining JARVIS’ voice overhead. _I need to get out of here_ , Tony rapidly reiterated, _before I do something stupid._

“What do you think, Anthony?” Loki asked quietly from behind him.

Tony jerked slightly and turned to find Loki had shut the door and was examining his reaction. Tony looked over the room again, avoiding Loki’s hopeful expression. “It’s nice. It’s very you.”

“Thank you.” Loki moved past him and tossed his keys onto a plate on the coffee table. Tony found himself trailing behind him which turned out to be the right thing as Loki began pointing things out and leading him on a tour.

The apartment consisted of the living room that the front door opened up into, with bookshelves lining the walls, and the kitchen and breakfast bar opposite the lounge area. There were numerous corridors which separated into a study that was even messier than the living room, and Tony swore he even saw wire-frame glasses on top of a collection of dossiers. There was a guestroom with a bed devoid of bedding which meant he obviously didn’t entertain much. There was a bathroom nearby it, as well as the final main bedroom with attached ensuite. Loki opened the door for a cursory view, but they didn’t step inside as he directed Tony back to the main living room, pausing only briefly for Tony to lay his few possessions in the guest room.

It was a very simple and functional apartment for a single man. Tony didn’t know why he’d expected anything more; probably because his only real experiences with wealth was the kind that Howard and his associates threw around like confetti. When they were back where they’d started, Tony repeated, “It’s a nice place, Loki.”

“I hope it will be sufficient for you as long as you’re here.”

“I’m sure it will,” Tony answered.

Loki nodded. “As before, you are welcome to anything while I’m gone.” He extended his hand to encompass the apartment. ”My home is yours.”

“How long will you be gone?” Tony asked, focusing on the most important part of the issue. He searched around and found a clock. “It’s not even eight. We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Thank you for your concern, Anthony,” Loki answered. “The cupboards and fridge will be stocked, and I will find something while I am out.”

“Yeah, but-”

Loki shook his head. “I appreciate your kindness in keeping me here, but we both know I need to make sure you are out of danger, and that nothing about our actions will be spread to people whom we can’t afford to have learn of them.” That shut Tony up, but he wasn’t happy about it. Loki just smiled lightly. “I will be back soon. I will bring lunch.”

“I’m already kicked out of the cooking business?” Tony tried for cheerful. “I was just starting to get the hang of not charcoal-ing the chicken.”

Loki chuckled. “You are a good cook, and we both know it.”

“You’re better,” Tony argued.

“Yes,” Loki agreed, making Tony snort, and Loki’s grin widen before fading back to neutrality. “Relax, eat, sleep. Do whatever you wish and I will be back when I can.”

“Yeah, alright,” Tony allowed. He knew he couldn’t keep Loki here indefinitely. Hell, he might be worrying about losing time with Loki for nothing; he might still be in danger and be spending another week with Loki. He didn’t know. _They_ didn’t know; that was what Loki needed to establish. “I expect something good for lunch.”

Loki, the little shit, actually gave a mock bow, his hand over his heart and everything. “As you demand, I shall deliver.”

“Okay, now I know you’re just being an asshole.” Loki just laughed, straightening with dancing eyes and his teeth revealed due to the width of his smile. “What do I do if I need to contact you?”

A pensive frown briefly slipped across Loki’s face before his eyes moved to the kitchen. He made his way over to it, lightly touching Tony’s shoulder to request he move slightly so Loki could pass. Tony eyes followed him curiously as he reached the bench and grabbed a pen and paper. He scribbled something before plucking the earwig from his ear making Tony register that he still possessed his own. He pulled it out, letting it hang off his shoulder before he made his way towards the other.

When he got close enough, Loki drew his solemn eyes from the paper but turned the pad around to face Tony who was slightly shocked to find numbers listed on it in Loki’s elegant hand. “That is the number to a phone I will always have on me.”

“You’re giving me a phone number,” Tony intoned.

“Yes. There is a landline in the study.”

“You’re giving me a _working phone_.” Tony stared at Loki with unfathomable eyes.

Loki’s mouth was slightly curled. “Yes. I hope you won’t need to use it, but I leave the choice to you.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that, and he obviously took too long to decide as Loki stepped away from the counter.

“I’ll be back when I can,” Loki promised him, and with no further ceremony, he walked back through the lounge room, snatching up his keys, and stopping only briefly at the door. He paused with his hand on the knob to look back at Tony who hadn’t moved from his spot.

Loki was memorising him again; Tony had grown used to that exact slant of his head and the sharpness to his eyes that meant Loki was trying to take down his likeness. He opened his mouth to speak, but Loki was already turning away and disappearing out the door. He didn’t hear the door lock, but he was fairly sure Loki would have done it, not to keep him inside, but to keep anyone but himself out.

Well, anyone but a master locksmith or someone with a hefty enough weapon or strong enough foot, but he supposed it was the thought that counted.

Tony let out a loud breath of air and turned back to that number and the knowledge he had escape, quite literally, at his fingertips. Granted, Loki could have a watch on the phone or a block so that he could only call select numbers, but Tony didn’t care enough to try. He _wanted_ to tell Barnes, JARVIS, and Howard that he was okay, but he would see them soon enough. It wasn’t worth it when he didn’t want to risk the last few days he had with Loki.

He did rip the number off the pad and shove it in his pocket though; he wanted that with him just in case he needed to make a sudden dive for the phone and lock himself in the study. He’d have to make sure to keep a weapon ready, just in case too.

Still, first things first, he wanted a fucking shower. Then a coffee. And maybe a bit of exploring and poking around in Loki’s house. The idea made Tony smirk before he headed for the guest room and his clean clothing. He hoped the guest bathroom was more stocked than the dust-gathering room he’d been placed in; he’d have to remember to ask Loki for bedding. The way he’d woken up a few hours ago might have been a more pleasurable image to entertain gaining again, but they didn’t have the excuse of near death and paranoia this time. It was back to separate rooms and separate beds; no more early morning cuddles and fingers stroking through his hair.

Scowling, Tony picked up the change of outfit a little violently. He resolved not to think about it for the remainder of the day. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? He had a whole apartment to investigate, a book to read, and Rex to tinker with. See? He had plenty of things to do that wasn’t thinking about Loki’s body pressed against his own and stroking his skin like he was made of spun glass and needed to be on display.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, and when that didn’t work, he leant against the nearest wall and lightly began to thump his forehead against it. _Idiot, idiot, idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *the loud sound of a timer counting down*
> 
> I have no doubt they _both_ hear that ticking over their heads. Poor boys :(
> 
>  **EDIT - 23rd of July 2016:** As stated in the previous chapter, I've updated Loki's ~pet names for Tony thanks to SmallFurryCreaturesFromAlphaCentauri giving me correct translations and _Hjärtanskär_ = loved with all my heart/soulmate. YES. JUST QUIETLY MELT INTO A PUDDLE. OR SCREAM AS YOU DO. EITHER ARE ACCEPTABLE.


	18. Chapter 18

The shower he took didn’t exactly clear his head, but he felt better afterwards. He also got to curiously poke and prod at Loki’s home. It was fairly boring and very Spartan on personal items. Tony knew that Loki’s books were important to him, and he also had a fair idea that anything of significant sentimental value would be locked up tight in Loki’s room, but he wasn’t rude enough to probe that far. In the end, he only ended up killing an hour and a half before making some toast and heading back to the living room and plopping down on the couch. He pulled out his book and attempted to get a little further through it.

He ended up falling asleep.

Well, more accurately, he fell into a restful doze. If he had of been truly asleep, wild horses wouldn’t have gotten him up, let alone the apartment door opening by a returning Loki - although, the fragrant food could have also assisted in dragging Tony from unconsciousness.

“I woke you,” Loki summarised, watching Tony push up from his sprawled position, his countenance filled with guilt.

Tony waved him off. “Wasn’t out for long.”

“Liar,” Loki disagreed affectionately.

Tony ignored it. “Indian?”

“Their food is excellent.” Loki said as if it was the only important thing and took the bags over to the dining table.

Tony pushed himself up. “I thought you might have brought burgers.”

“There’s no one nearby that will do a decent takeaway,” Loki answered absently, and Tony grinned warmly over Loki having _thought about one_.

Taking himself over to the table, he was quickly gestured into a seat while Loki pulled the numerous items out of their bags. He then went to the kitchen and _stored_ the plastic bags like the neat freak he not-so secretly was before asking, “Proper cutlery?

“Huh?” Tony glanced up, and found Loki holding out metal forks. His mouth twitched as he took and opened a plastic one. “I’m good.”

Loki brought down the single set as well as two plates to dish their food onto. When he had more or less set the table he took a seat opposite Tony which caused a frown to form; they’d spent so much time sitting beside each other, hell, _hugging_ recently that he was surprised Loki didn’t try to maintain it.

“Lokes?” He looked up and something sad cracked through what Tony _hadn’t noticed_ was forced cheer. He straightened. “Loki? What’s wrong?”

He put down his fork and let out a heavy sigh. “I owe you a conversation I do not want to have, Anthony.”

_Oh, right, that._

“We can eat first?” Tony suggested, not wanting to have it just as much as Loki.

Loki’s smile was bittersweet. “Yes, that would be nice.” He cleared his throat and nodded at his apartment, turning back with a mask in place. “I see you’ve freshened up. How were your hours here?”

“Fine,” Tony answered vaguely, noticing something else with a curious head tilt. “You’ve done the same?” He was blaming just waking up and the distraction of food for blocking the observation skills that _should_ have told him that Loki wasn’t in combat gear anymore. He was now in black slacks and a dark grey dress shirt. “Did you go to your office?”

“Yes,” Loki answered. “I have spare garments in my cars and offices, and there is a shower for employees there.” _Huh_ , Tony thought while Loki began reaching for food. He mentioned lightly. “You did not use the phones.”

 _Hah! Called him having a watch on it!_ Tony didn’t bring it up though; he just shrugged and served up his own meal. “I didn’t need to call anyone.”

“Not your friends?” Loki insisted, eyeing him shrewdly. “Not your organisation? I gave you the option, and you didn’t take it?”

Loki looked unhappy at why the outcome he’d seemed to expect hadn’t happened. There was also something else there in the way his fist wasn’t quite clenched; he was noticeable agitated by something.

“No, Loki, I didn’t,” Tony restated, watching him carefully and wondering just what was wrong. He might have been mentally adding, _because I don’t want to go_ , but he didn’t voice it. “We don’t know if it’s even safe for me yet, and-” Tony flicked his gaze to his plate and did confess, “I’m not going to betray you like that.”

“‘Like that’,” Loki murmured and whatever was bugging him suddenly crested over and spilled out, “Tell me, Anthony, what betrayal _would_ you foist on me?”

Tony snapped his head up. “What? I’m not going to betray you!”

“Everyone has a limit,” Loki answered, not quite looking at him. “And you will be with S.H.I.E.L.D. again soon. You know a lot about me, Antho-”

“I’m not going to sell you out!” Tony snapped, slamming his hand down on the table and making Loki focus on him. “I’m not going to say _shit_ about what happened unless it’s what _we_ decide will be said to convince S.H.I.E.L.D. I don’t deserve a lockup.”

“You could put me away for the crimes you’ve witnessed,” Loki rebutted angrily, “you could hack my systems with ease now that you know the inner workings. You could yet get someone to my safehouse and find enough evidence to tie me to all those murders.” His eyes blazed, and his jaw was tight. “You could _destroy_ me,” Loki hissed, but his next words were a cracked open swirl of emotions, “and I don’t know why you _won’t_.”

Tony leaned back against his chair, honestly shocked. “You really think I’ll do that?” It _hurt_ that Loki would, but that pain was quickly hidden under anger so that it wouldn’t leak into his voice. “You think I’d be that much of a-”

He couldn’t even finish; his voice was too close to breaking with emotion. _Fuck this._ Tony pushed away from the table and stood up. He heard Loki hurriedly doing the same and calling his name but righteous fury was burning under Tony’s skin as he clenched his fists and started stalking for the spare room.

“Anthony!” Loki called, but Tony ignored him. He would have liked to walk out the door and go for a loop around the block until he felt less angry, but he knew, even in his upset state, that it couldn’t happen. He planned instead on slamming the guest room door and not coming out until he was less likely to yell in Loki’s face, but Loki caught up to him too quickly. He grabbed Tony’s upper arm, getting shaken off the first time, but the second, he gripped too tight. “Anthony!”

Tony spun abruptly, fixing Loki with the full focus of his glare as he spat, “ _What?!_ ”

Loki seemed slightly taken aback by the venom of the word, but he still didn’t let go or shift away. His voice was calm as he spoke, “Anthony, please, you must understand my position.”

“That you don’t trust me not to stab you in the fucking _back?_ ”

“I don’t trust _anyone!_ ” Loki angrily growled before closing his eyes on a wince. “I don’t trust anyone,” he whispered softer, “I never did for years,” he revealed turmoil-filled green eyes, “but I can’t stop the way I keep trusting you,” he licked his lips, “keep _hoping_ that you’ll trust me, and...” he broke off and awkwardly dropped his gaze, “and I’m sorry if that makes me press for confirmation and upset you.”

 _That wasn’t what you were going to say_. It was easy to tell, the curve of his lips had abruptly changed words after his pause. What he’d said was still true, but it wasn’t what he’d been starting to say, what he’d begun to reveal; another thing that he _hoped_ for from Tony.

Tony could guess, but he didn’t vocalise the sentiments. He did find his anger sliding away as it normally did around Loki and his honest despair any time he miscalculated and upset or angered Tony. It hurt too, because it made him want to cup that troubled face and kiss those nervously bitten lips.

“I’m not going to betray you,” Tony promised quietly, his voice a little emotionally rougher. “I fucking promise I won’t, Loki.” _I’ll resign from S.H.I.E.L.D. before I do that_. The words tripped over his tongue and snagged in his mind as he realised the truth of it. _Holy fuck_ , he thought, _I really would_.

Loki’s hand came up and cupped and stroked his cheek, surprising Tony. His wide eyes met Loki’s wistful ones. “And I truly do believe you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Tony murmured quietly.

Closing his eyes, Loki dropped both his hands so he wasn’t touching Tony anymore. He also took a step back before he revealed those saddened emeralds. “If you won’t reveal my secrets and you are no longer in danger, then I have no reason to keep you here.”

Tony’s heart missed a beat as it took a new route to rest in his suddenly nauseated stomach. “What?”

“You’re safe,” Loki repeated despondently. “This will be your last night in my company.”

Tony couldn’t hold Loki’s gaze; he dropped his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to come to terms with the abrupt wall that had smacked him in the face. He’d truly thought he’d have longer. He thought it wouldn’t be so fucking _sudden_.

“You’re sending me back?” Tony sought the confirmation of it again, finding Loki’s eyes and half wishing he would deny it, that it was all a joke or something that would turn out inaccurate.

Loki just gave a sharp nod, and Tony _knew_ he wasn’t lying. His face looked drawn, and his eyes were dull. His mask was on the floor, and the truth was leaking out of him. “Tomorrow morning,” Loki agreed blankly. “I’ll tip S.H.I.E.L.D. off to your location - wherever we decide it will be - and they will find and take you back.”

“Then what?” Tony croaked out, but he already knew the answer.

“I disappear from your life,” Loki told him, “as was decided.” _Not good enough_. Tony closed his eyes and brought a hand up to pinch his nose. “Anthony?”

“Nothing,” Tony dropped his hand. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t expect it for some stupid reason. I _knew_ it was coming, and here it is, and I’m just...”

He trailed off, but Loki latched onto it, sounding painfully hopeful. “Yes? You’re what?”

Tony looked up at Loki, and he knew he couldn’t admit anything that would make their separation harder. He knew he couldn’t confess reciprocal feelings only to rip them out of Loki’s grasp by going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. anyway. He could still give him _something_. It wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear, and it wasn’t a half of what he deserved, but it was all Tony could offer.

“I’m-” _falling in love with you, and I don’t want to go_. “I’m not sure how to be on a different side to you anymore.”

Loki gave him a small, helpless smile but his gaze had flooded over with a tender sadness. “I don’t know either. I haven’t truly managed it for some time.”

“I’d noticed,” Tony confirmed like he had before. “There wasn’t anything new from you in ages, but I also hadn’t been actively looking. I didn’t want to see it if there was.”

Loki shook his head. “There was none there to find. I hadn’t wanted to divide your loyalties anymore than I already had.”

“I appreciate it, then and now.” Tony’s small grin soon faded. “But that doesn’t change what’s going to happen.”

“I know,” Loki conceded, “but it’s not yet.” He shifted so that he was standing to the side, the cooling food visible. “Can we not have one final meal together untainted by that eventuality?”

Tony bit the inside of his cheek unhappily. “We still need to plan everything.” He glanced at Loki. “We should make this the shit meal,” his mouth quirked up, “save the better thoughts for dinner?”

“I assume you’ll continue your persistent call for burgers at that junction?”

“If you’re that picky, we can just _make_ them,” Tony teased, but Loki shook his head.

“I would rather not leave again, if you don’t mind.”

 _I don’t want to waste another moment apart_. Tony could read between the lines. “Well you might have to order in a pizza then, there’s not much here.”

Loki moved closer, and a gentle touch brushed his back. Tony barely resisting looking over his shoulder as he let Loki guide him back to the table. “I suppose I shall just have to survive one day without a home cooked menu then.”

“Princess,” Tony teased lightly and gained a small smirk for his troubles as Loki took his seat again.

It was still strange to sit a table apart, but Tony didn’t make a comment; they had shitter items to discuss. He waited until they’d both piled their plates and had a few bites before he broke straight into the uncomfortable atmosphere hovering at the sides.

“So. S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Loki’s mouth twisted, but he nodded. “Yes. I’ve had thoughts on that; there may be a way our story can work at also severing our connection in a single swoop.”

“Oh?” Tony enquired, “How’s that?”

“Well,” Loki put down his fork and linked his fingers, resting his chin on their steepled form. “Malekith will be known by now, and his disappearance tied to me by Thor’s assumption of my involvement.”

“Which is true,” Tony interjected.

Loki made an unimpressed and notably dismissive face. “He occasionally can connect dots together, yes.” Tony didn’t bother to hide his smile. “However, this will give an opportunity for you to pretend outrage at our entire communication being a ploy of _fake_ affection in order to lure Malekith to attack someone I had no invested interest in. Thor will happily believe me capable of such an overarching and callous plot to use you as little more than a pawn on my chessboard.”

“That’s impressive,” Tony responded after a moment of running it through his mind. It was actually fairly brilliant. Sure, it would need some further tweaking and a lot of discussion on their roles and a means of mentally rewriting the history of their communication, but fuck, it was _plausible_.

It was scarily plausible. If Tony wasn’t well aware that Loki couldn’t fake half the things he’d let slip when they were together, it would be painfully easy to imagine everything was a lie and a convoluted plot of Loki’s. It would also be a very successful general ‘fuck you’ to S.H.I.E.L.D. by twisting one of its employees up in a controversial, dangerous mess.

“It’s not true,” Loki added firmly, catching Tony’s eyes and imploring him to believe. “It’s just a realistic situation that will not allow blame to fall on you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony assured Loki. “It makes sense. I can say I was milking you for information because you contacted me, and I thought it was a good chance to catch you out and lock you up.” Not entirely inaccurate when you considered what he’d first thought when he started it. “I go off half-cocked enough that they’ll believe I got wrapped up in your game and was lucky to escape it alive.”

Loki, of course, called him on it. “I have no doubt that was the true beginning of why you started responding to me.”

Tony flicked him a sheepish grin. “Well, it helps make it more believable, right? Even if it veered off that path somewhere in the middle.”

“A change of direction I am very grateful for,” Loki made a point of highlighting before he continued on with the heavier topic, “But yes, it will work well for convincing your co-workers of our detachment and the end of any further conversing.”

Tony nodded, staring at the table absentmindedly as he played with all their interactions in his mind. “It’ll cover your reason for assisting me with Ultron, and a lot of the other stuff isn’t known by Barnes or anyone else; yeah, fuck, this will really work.” He looked up at Loki again. “We’ll have to figure out the back story perfectly as well as how much we’ll give away when we’re both questioned. This can’t look manufactured but has to line up enough that when we’re giving deliberately inaccurate or misleading information, they’ll still logically connect it together.”

“They will want to believe your innocence and my wickedness as well,” Loki added. “It won’t be hard to lead them down a path they want to have proven correct.”

“Some will be shrewder than others.” _Hill, Romanoff, and probably Fury too_. “But I’m easily written off as being an idiot for the best intentions and the greater good.”

“A stupid mistake,” Loki criticised the unnamed agents, “but one that will work in our favour.”

Taking up a forkful of Indian - because he was hungry, and it _was_ good - Tony requested, “Okay. Where do you want to start?”

“I suppose the beginning,” Loki suggested with a lack of true enthusiasm, and Tony didn’t know how he could help change that. It wasn’t like there was a lot to look forward to. They had a handful of hours left together. The best Tony could do was try and sort this out with Loki quickly and spend the evening less focused on what was about to tear them apart.

It was worth a shot at least.

* * *

The planning took longer than either of them probably expected as they tossed around ideas and carefully prepared every part of the lie so that no holes could be poked in it. Their goal was to make it look like Loki had no feelings for Tony, that Tony _hadn’t_ been growing fond of him, and that he now actively despised Loki for having been used.

It was possible that Barnes might not buy everything; he knew too much and worse than that he _knew_ Tony. So Tony also had a backup plan in place where he admitted that he _had_ started to like Loki and that _yes, Barnes had told him so_. It made him look vulnerable but kept up Loki’s facade of not caring. He just really hoped Barnes wouldn’t be suspicious of the truth of it because of his own interactions with Loki. He’d brought that up with the other, but Loki hadn’t seemed overly concerned. He was certain any misgivings would be dismissed in favour of the animosity that was held for him and his known difficulty of ever being caught out unawares.

Tony really fucking hoped Loki was right.

When they finally reached an agreement on everything, Tony was frustrated and upset to realise it was early evening, and he was yawning. Loki looked exhausted too; his hair was a mess from running his fingers through it, and his eyes were pinched with tiredness. Loki had gained less sleep than Tony, possibly _no_ sleep which Tony half-suspected despite lying down and resting with him at the safehouse.

He didn’t want to admit it, but Tony knew having pizza together and any further conversation wasn’t going to happen. They might have needed to make the plan they had, but it had also sucked almost all their remaining time together away. Loki knew it too; his face was a picture of disappointment and resignation.

“We need to retire,” he announced. “You’re tired and so am I.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know it would take that long.”

“Neither did I,” Loki affirmed. “But it doesn’t matter. It, more than anything else, needed to be done.”

Tony wanted to argue, wanted to fight his weariness and stay talking with Loki for longer, but it wasn’t just about him. Loki looked like the walking dead. It was all the little pieces of disarray that clung to him and softened his sharper edges and mind. He needed the sleep more than Tony did, and Tony couldn’t let his own desire for more negatively affect Loki.

_Well, we could always..._

The thought seeped into his mind and spread until there wasn’t a single part of Tony that wanted to fight it. It was their last night together, and Loki could use a good night’s sleep. They _both_ could. What could it hurt?

“I suppose we better go to bed then,” Tony said, feeling nervous despite himself as he stood.

Loki blinked and rose as well, looking downtrodden at Tony’s sudden change of countenance. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t wish to keep you up.”

A lot of nice words for someone who didn’t want to let him go. Tony cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help noticing the bed’s not made in the guest room.”

Loki blinked. “Oh, yes,” he frowned, “I don’t often have visitors. I can make it, just give me a-”

“Loki,” Tony cut in, hoping the rapid beating of his heart wasn’t as audible as it felt. “I’m tired _now_.”

It didn’t take long for Loki to comprehend what he was getting at if his sharp inhale was any indication. His words were still tentative as if he wasn’t quite daring to be overt with the words. “I only have one other bed.”

 _Now or never_. “Sharing’s worked before, right?”

“You would do that with me again?” Loki questioned, seeking further clarification, but the yearning was easy to be seen.

“Yeah,” Tony swallowed. “It was nice, and I’m only here for a night. There’s no point making the other one up, is there?”

It put a bit of a negative weight on Loki’s enthusiasm, but he still seemed happy enough with the outcome to ignore the rest. “Of course, it’s very practical.”

“Mmm,” Tony hummed. “Practical, that’s me.” He gestured over his shoulder at the guest room. “I’ll just change and brush my teeth.”

Loki nodded, still looking a little mystified. “I will leave the lamp on.”

Tony gave a brief agreement before turning and heading to the guest room, making sure to keep his pace at a normal level and not reflect the way his heart was acting like he’d just run a marathon. It was _stupid_ , but it felt not unlike agreeing to give up his virginity. And fucking hell, it was _nothing_ like that, but his body was still faintly trembling with nervous excitement. He was only sharing a _bed_ with the guy, and they’d already done the same thing a few hours ago. Yet somehow this felt more charged.

Maybe it was because there wasn’t any pretext to it; there was no danger and it wouldn’t be for a couple of hours but for the whole night. He had no reason to select sharing with Loki, but he’d done it anyway, even going so far as to ignore the alternative option Loki was offering.

It was boldly apparent to them both that he’d _chosen_ this. He’d chosen to spend his last night curled up around Loki in the man’s bed; not an impersonal safehouse mattress but _Loki’s bed_.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t something either of them could dismiss lightly.

It didn’t stop him from doing it though. 

Tony went about changing into his sleep pants and a shirt before performing his evening routine. His anxiety had dropped down during the habitual tasks but rapidly cranked up as he made his way through the apartment to Loki’s room.

He didn’t knock and rather just slipped inside; Loki came out of the bathroom a moment later. “Anthony,” he was also in sleep pants but had his shirt bunched in one hand. He could see some bruising on Loki’s chest and even a few nicks from where a knife must have caught him during the fight. “Would you mind if I didn’t wear this?”

Tony shook his head, his mouth feeling a little dry and a small part of him cursing for not taking his own shirt off. Then again, skin to skin probably wouldn’t have been a good thing. “It’s fine.”

Loki nodded, gesturing at the bed. “Whichever side you wish.”

Deciding to more or less take the bull by the horns, Tony took the same side he’d slept on at the safehouse. He pulled back the blankets and tried not to notice Loki opening a drawer and slipping the unneeded shirt back inside. Climbing under the covers, Tony rested his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling and unable to relax even when Loki soon did the same. Once he was mirroring Tony, Loki turned off the lamp and plunged them into a darkness only broken by the city lights peaking through the closed blinds.

It was awkward and the gap between them felt like a canyon. Tony shifted a little before mimicking what he’d done the last time they’d been in bed together; offering his back to Loki. It didn’t take more than a minute before Loki was moving and soon an arm was around his waist, tugging him back until he was pressed against that smooth chest. Tony sighed with relief and moved his own hand to cover Loki’s. He’d only intended to squeeze it and let go, but Loki kept him there and linked their fingers. He then raised their hands to rest them in the centre of Tony’s chest.

A nose was pressed behind his ear and Loki started to whisper something in another language, but he stopped and the hand in Tony’s tightened. “Thank you,” he said instead. “Anthony, I would request you don’t reply to this.” He waited until Tony gave a small nod before continuing, “I just want... I-” he sighed, and Tony felt it brush his neck. “Thank you for everything you have shared with me these past few weeks. I know it will not mean much to you, but I’m grateful for all of it.”

This time Tony _definitely_ felt a kiss against his hair. “I don’t deserve your indulgence, but I wanted you to know how much I’ve enjoyed it. How much I’ve enjoyed spending time with _you_.” Whatever space might have been between them was closed as Loki moved in close, completely pressing against the length of Tony’s body, but Tony hardly noticed it, too caught up in the confessions being handed out to him so artlessly. So full of barely constrained emotion.

“Thank you for spending the night with me.” Tony _so_ badly wanted to reply to that, to _all of it_ , to turn in Loki’s hold and comfort Loki while swearing he wanted it too, but he barely got the first syllable of Loki’s name out before he was shushed. “Please, Anthony. Allow me my own thoughts on your response. I’d rather not have them proven false.”

Tony wasn’t happy about it, but he mulishly fell silently, earning another chaste press of lips against his hairline as well as a thumb stroking over his hand.

“Allow me to pretend,” was the final murmur against his ear, and it fucking _broke_ Tony’s heart, and he knew if they were face to face he would have kissed Loki. As it was, all he could do was close his eyes and let Loki wrap around him and continue to press his lips lightly against Tony’s hair and neck.

It took Tony longer than it should have to fall asleep, lulled as he was by those soft lips against his skin and the jumbled words of broken, coveted love rolling around his head, making his dreams a mess of Loki’s sad eyes and stroking fingers.

* * *

Tony shifted out of sleep, uncertain about what had woken him at first. He blinked open sleepy eyes to find himself on his back with Loki lying on his side beside Tony. His eyes were wide with an almost crazed gleam and the second he saw Tony was awake he moved even closer, almost leaning over Tony and whispering desperately, “Please let me.”

Tony was confused until he felt a hand brush against the front of his pants and making a small moan escape him. He looked down his body and found himself half-hard. A longer groan escaped when Loki took a firmer hold of him through his sweat pants and stroked gently.

The haze of sleep was still present even as the pleasure of reality was beginning to race up his nerve-endings.

“Please let me,” Loki begged again, and this time, his hand moved towards the waistband of Tony’s pants.

Tony didn’t even get a chance to answer before Loki was carefully but hurriedly moving his pants down as if he feared Tony telling him to stop. His eyes were intently focused on Tony’s revealed erection, and a harsh noise escaped Loki’s throat before he was reaching out stroking with those long fingers, swirling his thumb around the tip and making Tony arch into the other’s touch, groaning lowly at the feeling.

Loki moved in closer, plastering himself to Tony’s side even while he was half-raised over him, drinking in every expression as his hand continued to coax Tony into full arousal.

“My gorgeous Anthony,” Loki whispered before he winced like he was in pain and added, “just for a moment, be mine.” He moved so that he was crouching over Tony and could stroke him with more ease, his free hand pushing Tony’s shirt up a little before it moved up his body further until he could cup Tony’s cheek; his thumb barely brushed the side of Tony’s mouth before he let him go. “Enjoy this for me. Let me see this just once.”

He gripped Tony a little tighter, just enough pressure to make Tony’s hips press up into the touch. Loki didn’t try to stop him, he gave the tip one more swirl before removing and raising his hand. His eyes closed for half a second as he licked along his palm, a shiver running through Loki’s body as he took a moment for himself. He was back to concentrating on Tony seconds later, the slight lubrication adding to the smoothness of the stroke.

Loki let out a harsh breath before he suddenly ducked down and a tongue flicked briefly over the head of Tony’s cock. Tony let out a shout, and his hand flew up, gripping Loki’s arm as he bucked. Tony’s eyes had fallen closed, but when he opened them again, Loki’s were lust blown, but he had moved his mouth away from Tony.

“A taste,” Loki got out hoarsely, “a taste to share with a visual I never want to lose.”

He bent forward over Tony, never once disrupting the hand gripping him. He was almost caging Tony into the bed and his thumb was tracing the same path his devilish tongue had. Loki’s eyes were full of passion and want and overwhelming desire as he looked down into Tony’s lust-blown eyes and pleasured features.

“ _God_ ,” Loki choked out and before Tony could react Loki pressed forward and stole his lips in a kiss. Tony let out a noise but while Loki’s tongue swiped his lip, he never deepened it, just sped up his strokes while Tony let out hitched noises and groans against those frantic lips.

Tony could feel his orgasm coming, and he must have made a specific noise because Loki pulled back from their open-mouth kiss to stare down at him. His face was a pained mess of craving and intensity as his hand kept up its steady rhythm. His free hand took the one Tony had been holding his arm with and pulled it up to the back of Loki’s neck where Tony’s fingers soon got lost in the strands of dampening hair.

“Come for me,” Loki pleaded. “Just once let it be for _me_ , Anthony.”

It was those roughly beseeching words that took Tony over the edge. He let out a bliss-filled keen and threw his head back into the pillows, arching towards Loki and tightening his fingers in Loki’s hair as pleasure whipped through him.

Loki stroked him through the aftershocks, and when he finally opened his eyes, he found Loki panting like he was the one who’d just had an orgasm. He was watching Tony like he was the most incredible thing in existence, and he didn’t want to ever stop. It took Tony a few blinks to realise there was flush in Loki’s cheeks and a noticeable tent in his pants.

“Loki,” he started to say, voice still slightly hoarse from his cries, but Loki obviously took the call of his name wrong, letting go of Tony’s flagging cock and focusing on the mattress while noticeably withdrawing in on himself.

He even started to pull away in order to dislodge Tony’s hand in his hair, but Tony tugged him forward instead. Loki shot him a mildly terrified look as Tony started to sit up but Tony just reached out and pulled on Loki’s waistband.

Loki looked astonished as Tony kept gesturing him nearer, and while Loki still looked like he doubted his good fortune, he still shifted his knees forward so that he was almost straddling Tony’s hips. The naked desire on his face was so painful to witness that Tony had to drop his gaze to Loki’s pants. He swallowed before reaching out and copying the movement through the material that Loki had made on him.

The sound Loki let out made Tony shudder; it was so utterly full of need, and his head had fallen backwards like it was just too much to handle.

Tony hurriedly pushed down Loki’s pants, revealing his painfully aroused flesh and moving to take it in his hand. Loki snagged his wrist before he could, and Tony started to frown only to have his hand brought up to Loki’s mouth. He let out a softly surprised but vaguely aroused noise at the way Loki tenderly kissed before licking his palm. The action and feel of Loki’s tongue took enough time that it made Tony’s cock give a half-hearted twitch before Loki was guiding his hand back down to wrap around Loki’s cock.

Loki let out another whimper and dropped Tony’s wrist, this time his head stayed forward, it stayed focused on Tony as he started to stroke. He couldn’t keep his gaze on the other for long though. Loki was so full to the brim with emotions that it hurt to stare at him; it was like he was looking into the sun. Little whimpers and whines were falling from Loki’s mouth as he panted and near shook with every movement of Tony’s hand.

When Tony rubbed his thumb just under the head of Loki’s cock on one of his upstrokes, Loki collapsed forward slightly, his hands resting on the mattress on either side of Tony’s chest. He breathed heavily before demanding, “Say my name.” Tony’s stroke faltered, and it made Loki look up, his eyes blazing and fraught with longing. “Say my name, Anthony. Say your attention is on _me_.” His voice cracked into a moan on the end at a swipe from Tony’s thumb. “ _Please_.”

Tony did as requested, watching Loki’s eyes flutter blissfully, and he brought the hand that had fallen from Loki’s neck earlier back up to twist and tug in the other’s hair. “Come on, Loki.” He bit his lip for a moment, but the urge was too strong to resist. “Come for your _Käresta_.”

The sound Loki made was not unlike a choked off wail before he was arching and coming; moaning Tony’s name brokenly as his release was milked from him. His head dropped forward once the initial pleasure was finished; he panted and stared sightlessly at Tony’s chest as he shook. Tony removed his hand from Loki’s cock but still left the one in Loki’s hair, stroking the strands lightly as the other recovered from his climax.

Tony knew the moment Loki came back to himself, all his muscles locked and his face twitched before he clenched his teeth in obvious anger. It was clear that every bit of that frustration was directed inwardly.

“Loki,” Tony tried softly, but Loki gave a very violent shake of his head in the negative and pulled away from Tony. He fixed his pants without looking at him and swiftly climbed off the bed, his back to Tony but a very fine shake visible in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Loki whispered, sounding wrecked.

Tony started to sit up. “Lok-”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” it came out even harsher than before, and Loki actually brought up a hand to rub his face before pinching his nose. “Please use my bathroom,” he forced out, and it was evident that the words were strained and difficult for him to say. “Please just... please do anything you need. I’ll be ready to give you back to S.H.I.E.L.D. within the hour.”

He didn’t say any more, didn’t let _Tony_ say any more before he fled the room, never once looking back at Tony or the bed. He even shut the door from behind so he wouldn’t have to turn and face him before disappearing into the rest of the apartment.

Tony was left staring at the place he’d exited and feeling a weight form low in his stomach, taking away the last few lingering moments of pleasure he’d had before Loki had run. Because all of a sudden it was back to S.H.I.E.L.D, back to reality; back to a world where he now knew exactly what Loki looked like falling apart and could never experience again.

Tony angrily turned in the bed and punched the pillow a good few times; his eyes squeezed shut so nothing might escape them. Fucking _tears_ wouldn’t help his situation; they’d only make it a thousand times worse.

Although, he didn’t know how anything could make him feel worse than he currently did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *GRINS EVILLY AND AVOIDS ANY UPSET AND ANGRY GLARES*
> 
> I have been _waiting_ for this chapter since I posted the first one, just to hear your reactions! (Handjobs! Quasi-sex from _me_!)
> 
> Come now, don't disappoint! ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry! I didn't intentionally mean to post this later in the day, but I just wasn't able to get it up at the usual time. I hope you can all forgive me! It still is the same day (for me at least), so technically still Friday :|

He was wrong.

Leaving that morning was probably worse.

Tony had needed to grab clothes to change into from the spare room. He’d heard the shower running from the bathroom nearby, and while he couldn’t be sure, it still sounded like a fist was slamming into a wall. Tony had moved away from that part of the apartment quickly after that. His own shower was a fast experience made difficult by the fact that every product in the cubicle was _Loki’s_ , and they smelled just like him.

When he finally slipped back into the living room, Loki had his arms crossed and was staring pensively and painfully at the table they’d had lunch at. Tony swallowed, knowing Loki truly was lost in thought if he hadn’t heard Tony approach. “Loki?”

Loki startled and jerked his head around to Tony, a flash of emotion too fast to catch streaking across his face.

“Anthony,” his voice was carefully composed and placing the distance of continents between them. “I will deposit your things by your apartment this afternoon when I’m certain S.H.I.E.L.D. will no longer be monitoring you.” He walked robotically across the apartment, making sure there wasn’t a single opportunity for them to get close enough to touch. When he reached the door, he turned and told Tony, “If you go down to the undercover garage, my driver will take you to the place we nominated yesterday.”

“Your driver?” Tony stepped closer. “You’re not coming with me?”

Loki wouldn’t even look directly at his face. “It’s for the best.”

“Loki-”

“ _Stop_ ,” Loki hissed, his careful control completely disintegrating under the strain. He finally caught Tony’s eyes, and Tony almost wanted to take a step back at the naked pain in them. “I’m at my limit,” Loki told him. “I can’t sit in that car and let go of you again. I _can’t_ ,” he growled and moved away from the door, pacing briefly before he stopped and told Tony blankly. “I can’t stop myself anymore because I know that no matter what I do, I lose you. I will _always_ lose you, and that’s already had me make one decision I will never regret but should never have made.” He looked away, glaring at his bookshelf. “You need to go now, before I do something else and lose your remaining regard as well as anything you might actually feel for me.”

Tony didn’t know what to say or what he could do. It was obvious any kind of comfort or attempt to make anything better was only going to make it harder for Loki. He also knew how much Loki clung to his own imaginations on what Tony felt because Tony couldn’t tell him it was _true_.

He could still tell him something to ease the ache of Loki’s heart.

Stepping up towards the other, he didn’t get too close, noticing the mounting tension in Loki’s shoulders as Tony was watched from the corner of his eye.

Tony stopped opposite Loki and told him. “It was a bad decision,” Loki’s face crumpled, and Tony hurried to add the next bit, “but _I_ don’t regret it either.”

Loki’s attention snapped to him, astonished but with burgeoning hope. “You don’t?” He went to take a step closer but aborted the movement at the last moment. His eyes went back to the ground, and he sighed, his voice turned tired as if he was stating something he knew but wished was false, “Pleasure can be taken from anyone, yes?”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted, “but you’ll never be just ‘anyone’.”

His green eyes raised and stared at Tony like he was trying to puzzle him out, but in the end, he just gave a half-smile. “You indulge me far too much, Anthony.” He ducked his head. “But, thank you.”

Tony smiled sadly. “I should be thanking you. I liked your protection.”

“It will always be there,” Loki promised him. “ _I_ might not be, but I will still try to keep any harm from coming to you regardless.”

“I think I’d prefer you,” which was a lie; Tony _knew_ he would prefer Loki.

Loki took the step closer he’d avoided before and took Tony’s cheek in his hand. He moved forward and pressed their foreheads together.

“As would I. I would give...” but he soon trailed off.

“What?” Tony whispered.

Loki gave a very faint movement of his head, their foreheads lightly rubbing. “It matters not.” He licked his lips. “But it matters that you leave, now, or I will not be able to stop myself from further actions.”

“What action is that?” Tony whispered and pulled back just enough that he could actually look into Loki’s eyes. God, this whole morning was a train wreck of bad decisions, but they’d never see each other again. Why shouldn’t caution go to the fucking wind when it might make Loki look less like he wanted death rather than what he was caught in? “What do you want, Loki?” Loki’s eyes dropped to Tony’s mouth, and he could see Loki’s adam’s apple bob so he asked him again, gently, “What do you want?”

“To kiss you,” Loki breathed.

Tony mouth twitched into a split-second smile before he told Loki. “Then kiss me.”

The breath Loki let out was harsh, and Tony could feel the tremble to Loki’s limbs before his other cheek was cupped. Loki still didn’t bring them closer; he just looked at Tony for a long moment before requesting, “Kiss me back.”

Loki, as usual, didn’t let Tony answer as he pressed their mouths together. Loki always did that, asking for what he wanted but blocking any answer from being given in case it wasn’t what he wanted. It didn’t matter though, because Tony _did_ respond to the other, putting his arms around Loki’s waist and moving his mouth against Loki’s tentative one.

The second he felt the reciprocation, Loki let out a small moan and tilted Tony’s head, stealing and sucking on Tony’s lower-lip and stroking it covetously with his tongue. He let it go and kissed him more, never once asking for anything further, but Tony brought his own tongue out, catching Loki’s by nothing but accident. It was all Loki seemed to need before all his careful hesitance fell apart.

Loki sucked at the tip before encouraging him to explore Loki, something Tony was more than happy to do. Loki’s mouth opened, and when Tony actually took the invitation, Loki’s little shocked noise made Tony grin. He didn’t linger long before he retreated, but before Loki’s fingers could do more than twitch against his cheeks, Tony was persuading _Loki’s_ tongue to follow him.

It was obvious how much Loki’s heart was in the kiss; his touches were so hesitant but so joyous when they were allowed. Tony forgot all about leaving; he forgot all about _restraint_ and pulled out a move with his tongue that he’d perfected in college.

It was a move that let men and women alike know that should he go down on them, they would _really enjoy it_.

The problem was that while Tony had lost himself in the kiss, a part of Loki was still aware that this was goodbye because he pulled back and away with a pained gasp and an aroused flush high in his cheeks.

Tony’s own breath was a little heavier, but unlike Loki, he didn’t have _evidence_ of his enjoyment of the kiss, and Tony politely moved his gaze away from Loki’s pants. Loki just shut his eyes, not even trying to hide his reaction as he evened his breaths.

“You need to go,” Loki told him, his voice gravelly and tinted with desire. “You’ve indulged me too much.” Despite his words, he moved a hand to Tony’s neck and drew him in, kissing him once more, chastely, on the lips. “ _I_ need you to go.” Loki dropped his touch and stepped away. His eyes travelled Tony one more time as the lust in his eyes got snuffed out by sad winds. “ _Hjärtanskär_ , how I’ll miss you.”

Tony knew he needed to leave, knew he’d made a mistake allowing that but still didn’t want to take it back. He stepped away, grabbed the door, and pulled it open. He looked back at the other and allowed himself to reply: “I’ll miss you too, Loki.”

He didn’t wait for a response; he simply shut the door, closing his eyes for a moment on the other side to take a breath to steady himself. He pushed away after that and made himself focus on each step forward as he took the elevator down to the car park.

The car with driver was waiting just like Loki had said, and Tony slipped inside without a sound. He used the car ride to lock every bit of emotion up behind a wall. He wrapped all his thoughts and feelings on Loki into a ball and shoved them somewhere they wouldn’t be acknowledged.

He needed anger, he needed disgust, and he needed everything he didn’t feel if he wanted to fool S.H.I.E.L.D. Anything else could be saved until he was alone in his apartment and protected by JARVIS’ security. It was there and only there that he’d let himself do something like drink a bottle of scotch so that when he broke down and cried, he’d have something else he could blame it on.

* * *

The place they’d decided on was in the Asian part of town, which didn’t have heavy building or ATM surveillance. It was also safe enough that Tony shouldn’t be in danger for the short period between his arrival and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. When Tony was let out of the car, he still made a show of flipping the vehicle off and shouting with the kind of righteous anger he would have been feeling if their story had been true.

He didn’t know who might be watching after all, so it was best to be as authentic as possible from the get go.

Looking around the area and glaring at any of the strange look he was getting from people in the street, Tony started heading in the general direction of where he hoped he could find a payphone. He didn’t have any money on him, but he was sure he could look pathetic enough to skimp some pennies off a couple of people.

He got maybe a block away and was about to cross at an intersection when three black, standard issue vehicles screeched around and down all of the streets. “Fuck!” Tony yelped, jumping backwards along with about thirty other people who’d been startled by their appearance.

Tony had a few moments of panic that another of Loki’s enemies had shown up to kill him before the first passenger door was flung open.

“ _Romanoff?_ ” Tony exclaimed, while also beginning to relax. Her stoic response of "Stark" was drowned out by the door of another car being ripped open and shut by Barnes who was stalking over to him. Tony gave a nervous smile. “I did just get out of custody, so-hey!” Barnes grabbed and rapidly felt him up, obviously checking for weapons. “Do you really need to-”

The breath rushed out of Tony in a loud ‘oomph’ sound as Barnes pulled him into a tight, almost bone-crushing hug.

“You fucking _disaster_ ,” Barnes choked out, and Tony was helpless to do anything but cling to him back. He shut his eyes tight and held onto the man in front of him; the man who, despite the angry confrontation they’d ended on, was still his _friend_. The embrace proved it all in one gesture: despite his actions with Loki, despite Barnes’ fury and threat to reveal everything and his spat words about loyalty, Barnes still cared about him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tony hissed out. “So, _so_ sorry, Bucky.”

Barnes gave him one more squeeze before he moved back; his face a blank mask before he drew back his fist and punched Tony in the face.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony yelled from where he’d toppled to the ground, a hand on his pounding cheek and utterly stunned he hadn’t either cracked something or fallen unconscious. It seemed Barnes had been holding back.

Barnes turned on his heel and walked past Romanoff who had her eyebrows raised. “I’m done,” Barnes told her. “He’s clean, and he’s yours.”

She nodded as Barnes made his way back into the vehicle he’d come by while Romanoff gestured at two nameless agents until they helped him up.

“Cuff him,” Romanoff ordered despite Tony’s protests, “then take him to Interrogation C for questioning.”

“Is this a _joke?_ ” Tony asked, struggling against the agents’ firm grips as they shoved his wrists into manacles behind his back. “I was kidnapped for fuck’s sake!”

Romanoff tilted her head. “Yes,” she agreed, “and Barnes informed S.H.I.E.L.D. just _why_ Laufeyson might have been inclined to do that.”

Tony stiffened and looked after Barnes, but his _friend_ was already in the car and pulling away from the curb. Tony turned back to Agent Romanoff and glared at her, drawing on every bit of anger that he truly felt from being separated from Loki and having his interactions with the criminal laid bare before Fury. “Is this supposed to be the part where you think I betrayed you? Or is this the part where I promise I would _shoot Loki in the fucking face_ if you gave me half a chance after everything that’s happened?”

“So it was Laufeyson?”

Tony had a brief moment to be grateful he’d always called Loki by his first name, otherwise he would have fucked up in the first five seconds. Tony smiled dangerously. “I’d love to give you evidence, but that’s not something he let me have; all he did was use me as fucking _bait_ to settle an old score.” Tony clenched his teeth and looked down at the pavement. “I _wanted_ to fucking beat him.”

“And he beat you instead?” Romanoff suggested flatly.

Tony shot her a venomous glare. “He didn’t _beat_ me; he _momentarily got ahead of me_.”

Romanoff’s mouth could have twitched or it could have been a trick of the light. He was hoping it was amusement because that was better than the hatred she could have held for someone she thought was cavorting with criminals. Romanoff was frankly terrifying, and he didn’t want to piss her off. It was worse when he didn’t have Barnes to hide behind as he was only marginally more deadly than her. Rumour was that he’d shot her once when they were both working undercover for different organisations. Tony had never been able to dig up the full details and neither of them were telling, but if there was ever a fight between the two of them, and Tony had to lay down bets... he’d run in the opposite direction. Neither of them were the kind of people to leave annoying, gambling witnesses alive; well, metaphorically speaking that was.

“Get in the car, Stark,” Romanoff told him as if he wasn’t being manhandled there anyway. “You have questions to answer.”

 _Fucking wonderful_ , he thought, but plastered on a smile. “Oh great, I get out of one cell for another.”

She stopped the men just as Tony was about to be shoved in the back of the car. She came in close, and Tony may or may not have shied away in mild concern she was about to punch him much less gently than Barnes had. Romanoff eyed him shrewdly before she murmured, “Prove us wrong.”

Tony frowned. “What?”

“Prove method to your madness, Stark.” He saw the twitch again, the smallest hint towards a potential smile. “S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to trust you. Prove you’re nothing more than an egotistical idiot.”

“Hey!” Tony protested but Romanoff was walking away and he was being forced into the back of the car.

He made a show of grumbling and trying to find a comfortable position even while he was internally gasping with relief. Loki had been right: S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted his innocence, and Romanoff had more or less declared her belief that he wasn’t on Loki’s side; which was good, because she was one of the best interrogators in the organisation, _and_ Tony wasn’t exactly lying. He wasn’t a criminal, he wasn’t on Loki’s side, he was emotionally compromised, yes, but he wasn’t against S.H.I.E.L.D., he was just... unable to betray Loki.

Which wasn’t exactly a criminal offense, but was probably grounds for dismissal; not that they needed to know that. S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to hear a different part of the story, a twist of the situation and a packet full of lies that he hoped to hell everyone bought.

He needed to escape his cuffs and their suspicion by blustering and spitting enough rage that everyone believed the smokescreen. Barnes was the biggest wild card, and Tony hoped he wouldn’t catch him out and wreck everything he’d planned with Loki.

But only time and whatever happened in Interrogation C would let him know his fate.

Tony closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. It was only through sheer force of will and his determination to focus exclusively on their plan that kept Tony’s mind from drifting to the man on the other side of town. Stopped him from wondering what Loki was doing, and thinking of all of the things they could have been doing _together_ if only Tony wasn’t here, cuffed in the back of a car by the organisation he was trying so hard to remain loyal to.

* * *

It was an odd experience to be led through S.H.I.E.L.D. handcuffed like a common criminal only for agents to come up to him and remark on their relief that he was safe. There were a few that glared at or ignored him, but the general consensus seemed to be happiness at his uninjured return.

Tony had really expected more animosity.

He’d been consorting with a known criminal, the _number one villain_ of the organisation, and barely anyone was batting an eye? Was it because of Fury’s earlier adamant insistence that he wasn’t connected to Loki during the Ultron debacle? Was it their misguided faith in him as well as Romanoff’s depiction of his ‘egotistical idiocy’?

Or was it that Barnes hadn’t figured everything out? Was it that Barnes had but simply _hadn’t_ fully ratted on him?

Tony had no idea, but he was hoping whoever was interrogating him might shine a light on what the fuck was going on.

When they reached Interrogation C the door was already open, and Clint Barton was leaning against the wall, the flat of one foot pressed against it while he whittled on a piece of wood. Tony stared at him from the doorway. “Isn’t that a breach of policy?”

Tony knew they needed to be armed in interrogation, but surely making a pile of wood shavings at an agent’s feet was a step too far.

“Isn’t that a bit rich coming from you, Stark?” Barton riposted.

Tony pursed his lips. “I have it on good authority I was just an arrogant moron.”

“Egotistical idiot,” Romanoff corrected, breezing past Tony but still pressing a pointed hand to his shoulder so that Tony stumbled into the room. He sent her a glare, but she was indifferent to it. “Sit, Stark.”

“I don’t do well with orders,” Tony replied defiantly, but he did only hold Romanoff’s unimpressed gaze for a few seconds before he moved over to a chair.

He kicked it out and sat down as best he could with cuffed hands. He was planning on using the other chair on his side of the table as a foot rest - despite the pain it might cause his shoulders and simply for the haughtiness it would display - when Barton cautioned him, “Someone will be sitting there.”

Tony blinked. “I haven’t even been arrested yet. You can’t seriously tell me I have a solicitor already? Because, frankly, I don’t want the duty one, I want _my_ one. She’s _so_ much better than the shit people we have around. Did you know-”

“It’s actually for me.”

Tony snapped his neck to the side to find Rogers entering the room. He dismissed the agents that had led Tony and shut the door behind him. Tony also wasn’t oblivious to the way Barton slipped the wood he’d been working on into his jacket. Rogers didn’t see it; he was too busy coming over and giving Tony a _genuine_ smile. “I’m really glad you’re alright.”

“That,” Tony got out after a few seconds of blinking owlishly, “is nice and all, Rogers, but it’s a shit way to start an inquisition.”

“He’s not the one doing this examination of your motives,” Romanoff informed him. “He simply requested to be present.”

Tony gave Rogers another look, one that clearly asked him ‘ _what the fuck?_ ’

Rogers sat down beside him with a shrug. “I want you treated fairly.” He nodded at Romanoff and Barton. “I don’t doubt that they will, but I’m going to make sure that whether you’re innocent or guilty, everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to know it. This interview is going to be above board and won’t be coerced or twisted to reflect a decision that was made before it even begun.”

“Are you... are you _protecting_ me?” Tony asked, trying to wrap his mind around something honestly unfathomable.

“I’m making sure you get treated fairly,” Rogers insisted. “I’m not your friend like Bucky is, but I know you more than Barton or Romanoff. When it comes to getting an unbiased but educated opinion on your motives and personality,” Rogers gave a helpless smile, “I’m it.”

“Which probably means you’ll get off lighter than you should,” Barton told him, before pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Or harsher than you deserve.” He shrugged. “It’s fifty-fifty with Cap.”

Rogers gave a world-weary sigh. “I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

Barton gave a shit-eating grin. “Of course, Cap.”

Any further banter was cut off when Romanoff grabbed the back of the chair opposite Tony and pulled it away from the table. The heels screeched against the floor and made all three men wince. She took a seat that made her look dainty and small, but her eyes were as sharp as flint and the flicker of the trusting woman who had asked him to prove his worth had disappeared.

“You’ve been communicating with Loki Laufeyson for months,” she stated. “S.H.I.E.L.D. would like an explanation for that.”

Tony licked his lip and leant forward slightly, giving himself a moment to compose even while everyone watched him shrewdly. “After he visited my apartment, he broke through S.H.I.E.L.D’s firewalls to email me.” Barton let out a hissed curse, and as much as he _wanted_ to make them squirm, he knew it wouldn’t help his chances. “I didn’t know it was him at first, just thought it was a bogey, but I had JARVIS sweep it: nothing was getting through and fucking up my shit.” He shrugged. “But I was curious. It was obvious that it was him in the first few sentences.”

“And you didn’t report it?” Barton demanded.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Why would I do that? Do you know how _hard_ it was to get anywhere near him? I’d been hunting him for _a year_ and could never speak to him. I needed to figure out how he _worked_ , and I wasn’t having any luck from the minimal crap he left behind.”

“You should have got it sanctioned,” Romanoff criticised, but Tony was already shaking his head.

“The second I pulled someone else in or tried to trace anything he’d shoot back like a turtle into a shell. Do you think I was risking that?”

Barton made a considering face before admitting a few moments later: “I probably wouldn’t say anything either, really.” Romanoff shot him an unimpressed look but he shrugged. “What? It’s true. We’ve all done,” he twisted his face in remembrance, “ _dubious_ things to catch a bad guy.”

“But when it wasn’t working,” Romanoff turned back to Tony, “why continue it?”

Tony’s eyes darted to the side and he acknowledged, “I _might_ have been a little too invested in beating him.”

“You didn’t notice him getting the upper hand,” Romanoff summarised.

“I didn’t give him any information,” Tony informed them flatly.

“Not even when he gave you that file on Hydra?”

Tony stiffened, his eyes locked with Romanoff’s blank ones. The inquisitive quirk of an eyebrow was the only thing she was giving away. “What makes you think he gave me those files?”

“Barnes made an educated guess. I’d had my suspicions about how you’d acquired it, but when your communications with Laufeyson were revealed, it was a logical leap. Hydra was a nuisance for more than just S.H.I.E.L.D., and you were a convenient means of doing his work for him.”

“I wasn’t exactly complaining,” Tony allowed, “but yeah, I wasn’t oblivious to that.”

“What about Ultron?” Barton interjected. “Why bother with that?”

Tony snorted; it kept his mind off his churning stomach. “Loki always has a multi-faceted plan; I just needed to be alive a little longer.”

“Which is why he kidnapped you?” Barton pressed.

Tony slumped back into the chair, careful of his cuffs. “There was a guy called Malekith; Odinson will know him. Loki killed the guy’s brother, and he wanted to take something precious from Loki in return.” Tony shrugged. “Turns out the criminal world was getting fed a different impression then what was actually going on.”

“You were bait,” Rogers spoke for the first time. There was a tension to his jaw and slow-burning fire in his eyes. “He used you.”

Tony slanted him a sadistically amused look. “Rogers, out of the _numerous_ outcomes he could have picked for me, I’m fairly happy with the head pat and ‘good boy’ I got before being shoved out on my ass.”

“You said _was_ ,” Romanoff focused on. “Malekith is dead?”

Tony turned back to her. “Yeah. Him and a bunch of his other gang members.”

“You witnessed it?”

His lips became a thin line at the question. “I’m not going to answer that.”

Romanoff’s eyes narrowed. “There are only two responses, Stark.”

“And I won’t confirm or deny either of them.”

Romanoff sat back and stared at him in silence. It lasted almost a minute before she suggested, “Laufeyson is a powerful and deadly enemy to have. There are a lot of people who won’t testify against him and, for the most part, that silence maintains their survival. I assume there would be no evidence of a crime?”

“Not a one,” Tony confirmed with a smile that was all teeth and no humour.

Romanoff nodded and moved on to the next topic. “You had dinner with him.” _Fuck you, Barnes. Fuck you **so much**_. “It was brought to Agent Carter’s attention by her cousin on hearing about your disappearance. Agent Barnes was reprimanded for not taking it expressly to Director Fury.” Rogers shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Nor explaining the extent of your communication.”

“Barnes knew why I was doing it,” Tony argued, feeling a surge of desire to protect his friend as much as he could; even if there wasn’t a lot he could do. “He figured it out and realised saying anything would blow my fucking chances at _catching_ Loki.”

“And his hesitance in bringing the evidence forward of your second encounter with Loki?” Romanoff pried.

Tony let out a rough breath and closed his eyes. He didn’t _want_ to get Barnes in trouble, but he didn’t have a choice. “Loyalty to me.” He looked up at Romanoff. “He gave me a deadline to own up to what had happened, or he would do it himself. He knew what I was trying to do but didn’t want me to continue.”

“Because he’s not a fucking _idiot_ ,” Barton muttered, completely ignoring the irritated look Tony shot him.

Romanoff continued as if the comment hadn’t occurred. “Why did you attend that dinner?”

Tony bit his lip, but so far every part of their fabricated story was slotting in nicely; this was just the next part. He didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that Romanoff had experience with honey-potting herself.

“Odinson warned me that Loki liked the company of men.” Rogers made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded strangled and pained. Barton was looking at him like he had the intelligence of a particularly dumb child, and Romanoff was as emotionless as ever. “I thought it might be worth a shot to sweet-talk some information out of him. He’d just saved my life,” Tony lifted his shoulders and grinned awkwardly. “It didn’t end with me poisoned, and I had JARVIS with me the whole time, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

“Did you learn anything?” Romanoff questioned.

“That’s what you ask?” Barton demanded before Tony could reply. “Not ‘are you insane?’ Or even ‘do you have a fucking deathwish?’”

“ _Barton_ ,” Rogers scolded.

“No, seriously,” Barton continued, “it’s a miracle he didn’t die. No,” Barton shook his head, “scratch that. It was because Laufeyson had a _vendetta_ , and he had Stark wrapped around his finger; _that’s_ why he didn’t die.”

“You’re really getting annoying,” Tony complained. “Can I get him ejected? Do I need to call ‘agent brutality’?”

Barton scoffed. “Nothing’s getting hurt but your ego, and this here,” his hand gestured, encompassed everyone at the table, “proves it needs a sound beating up.”

Tony was about to rebut, but Romanoff spoke first, her voice commanding as well as ignoring what had just occurred, “Did you learn anything?”

_That Loki has adorable taste in music and can make me laugh with the recounting of even the simplest prank._

“Nothing worthwhile,” Tony told them instead, not a total lie; any of the things he _had_ learnt wouldn’t interest S.H.I.E.L.D. “We politely tried to one up each other all evening. It was exhausting and frustrating;” Tony tilted his head, reflectively, “food was good though.” He smirked. “And Loki paid.”

“You let him take you out,” Romanoff deadpanned.

“I can’t afford to eat there on _my_ budget. It was the only damn thing I got out of the deal!”

“You called it a ‘deal’,” Romanoff pounced. “Why do you consider it one?”

 _Well, fuck_. Tony made a mental note to take _even more care_ with his wording. “He was the one to suggest it.” Barton made a pained groan in the corner, but Tony ignored him. “It was recompense for saving my life with Ultron.”

“And that wasn’t sixty-five _thousand_ red flags?” Barton wondered despairingly. He didn’t even wait for an answer. He pointed at Tony while asking Romanoff, “How can a fucking brainiac like him be _so dumb?_ ”

“I resent that!” Tony protested.

“You gained nothing from the association beyond some information to cripple a criminal organisation that was as much a pain to Laufeyson as it was to us.” Romanoff crossed her arms and leant back in her chair as she continued, “You were kidnapped and altogether repurposed for Laufeyson’s own ends and have ended up in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D. with numerous allegations pending that will end in your dismissal from this organisation as well as criminal charges.”

Tony knew he probably paled, his mouth certainly dropped slightly as he stared at Romanoff’s cool assessment of his situation. He went to speak, but Romanoff raised her eyebrows, and he shut his jaw with a click of teeth. “You have more than enough evidence staked against you to make us begin processing your arrest-”

“Then why the fuck don’t you?” Tony demanded, his voice hoarse as he felt a hole start to form under his feet; ready to drop him six feet under because Lord knows he’d be killed for sure if he was chucked in prison. The amount of people he’d put in there over the years that would want to end Tony Stark wasn’t going to be pretty. _Might have to call out Howard’s lawyers on this one, fuck._

Romanoff leaned forward on the desk, and for the first time since he’d been returned, she cracked a smile. “Because that’s what he wants us to do.”

Tony blinked and was fairly sure his chin hit the ground. “ _What?_ ”

Her grin only got bigger and smugger. “Laufeyson has been planning this from the beginning: he’s used you as bait and kept you alive only to be returned, why? He’s brilliant at hiding evidence, so why let everything slip? It’s simple. He wanted to take out the biggest threat to him; the man who kept getting close to catching him.”

“ _What?_ ”

Romanoff’s smile fell, and a frown took its place. “You’re too close if you’re missing this. I’m going to highly recommend keeping Miss Foster as the forensic scientist handling his cases until you’re better equipped to distance yourself from the current situation.” Romanoff pushed back her chair and stood. “Uncuff him.”

Barton came over and did as requested, letting Tony’s hands go free so he could rub them while leaning his forearms against the table. He barely glanced away from Romanoff once. “That’s it?”

Romanoff’s mask finally broke away completely into something between exasperation and amusement. “You’re not a criminal, Stark. You’re just an idiot.” Staring at her, Tony couldn’t come up with anything to say, and she eventually turned to Rogers. “I’ll give Fury my direct report,” she nodded at Tony. “Get him home,” before turning to Barton. “And set up a watch on his apartment to make sure Laufeyson doesn’t get any ideas.”

“I’ll check everything with Odinson,” Barton added, “get his opinion on what Laufeyson might do.”

“Good,” Romanoff remarked before turning on her heel and leaving the room. She left the door open, and Barton was quick to follow with a short ‘Stark’ and ‘Cap’ given in farewell.

The interrogation room fell silent before Tony turned in his seat and queried, “I thought you were the higher ranking officer?”

Rogers’ mouth quirked. “I wasn’t here in an official capacity.”

“Right,” Tony nodded. “Protecting me. Didn’t seem like you did much.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t need it. Very few people doubted you; we just needed to make it official.”

“I’m still having trouble understanding that.”

“You’re well liked and respected,” Rogers explained. “You’re one of us. It would take a lot to break our confidence and loyalty in a member of the team.”

Tony was very grateful that he had a good poker face, because he was fairly sure he’d been punched in the chest with a super-strong fist of guilt, and it was a miracle his face hadn’t cracked and shown it. 

“Thanks, Rogers,” he muttered, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow as it felt.

Rogers, mercifully, bought it and stood, inspiring Tony to follow. “I’ll take you down to Dr Banner; he’s anxious to see you and will want to check you over.” Tony winced pre-emptively at how fun that reunion was going to be. He’d missed Bruce, but he also felt like he was going to get a severe dressing down and a deeply disappointed frown. “Bucky will have told your father by now too,” Rogers added, lowering his voice. “I can get you a phone, if you want to call him?”

Tony grimaced. “Yeah, probably better do that soon. The last thing I need is him bursting into the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Bucky only just talked him out of doing that while you were missing.”

Tony’s face fell. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Rogers grinned. “I was privy to hearing half the side of that argument.” He sobered and told him with genuine concern, “I’d really suggest not getting kidnapped again.”

Reaching out, Tony clapped Rogers on the shoulder, grateful for the rock he’d obviously been for Barnes and the support he was attempting to be for Tony. “Do my best, Rogers. It’s not high on my priority list, trust me.”

Rogers seemed happy with that and began leading him down to the lower labs. Tony waited until Rogers was in front of him to close his eyes for the span of a blink, just enough to suck in a breath that would hopefully sustain him through the rest of the discussions he would have to wade through.

He was supposed to be happy; the plan was working, he was in the clear, and he _wasn’t_ fired or going to jail. Everything was perfect, and his life could go right on back to being normal. He _should_ want to go straight to his lab, or to go find out what had happened in his absence. He _should_ want to dig out old and new cases and catch whoever was responsible for them.

But all Tony wanted to do was go home.

 _No_ , he corrected, he wanted to go to _Loki_.

But that wasn’t possible was it? So he’d have to settle for his own apartment with JARVIS’ soothing voice overhead, and the freedom to be upset, and guilty, and to miss the criminal he was pretending to hate so much that it made it hard to breathe.

His chest felt compressed, and fuck, did he hope it was only indigestion from yesterday’s Indian.

 _It’ll pass_ , Tony told himself, and even though he wasn’t one for overused rhetoric, he still found himself mentally chanting it like a mantra. _It’ll pass. It has to fucking pass._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides from the crowd of readers with pitchforks and torches*
> 
> JUST REMEMBER, YOU CAN'T KILL ME _YET_. THREE MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!
> 
> (And apart from, you know, Tony _leaving_ , I hope you liked the chapter! Not to mention the re-involvement of S.H.I.E.L.D and their interrogation of Tony ;) )


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting sad. Two more chapters and this story is finished! It's been a heck of a ride and I'm going to miss posting it and reading your lovely comments. :(

It took another two hours before he made his way home. Bruce, as Tony had guessed, had frowned and checked him over in stifling silence until Tony poked him into exploding; he then gave Tony a stern dressing down that made him feel two inches in size. Darcy had hugged him though and gave him a freshly backed cupcake, so that wasn’t so bad.

When he was finished with that nightmare, he started the even bigger one of phoning his Father. Howard was... only mildly better than Barnes in that he couldn’t reach Tony to punch him in the face. Howard ranted, raved, blustered, and when he eventually wound down, sounded like he was either going to cry or throw his phone against the wall. Howard also threatened to descend on him next week if Tony didn’t visit Stark Manor within the month. He said he’d have to clear leaving the state with Fury but that he’d see what he could do.

Thirty minutes of that discussion later, and Tony was ready to go _home_.

Rogers happily took him there and walked him to his door which had gained another twenty-four hour S.H.I.E.L.D. watch. He was also required to have a meeting with Fury tomorrow afternoon and Rogers or another agent would personally come to collect him for it. Tony had nodded a lot and said very little until Rogers had taken the hint and left him to unwind with a farewell and the insistence he call if anything even remotely strange or Loki-related happened.

Tony waited a good ten minutes after Rogers had left before tentatively asking his still quiet ceiling, “J?”

“It’s good to have you home, sir.”

Tony almost sagged with relief, and he had to pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes. “It’s good to hear you, J.”

“And you, sir.”

It wasn’t until he’d heard that artificial voice again that he’d realised just how much he’d missed it.

“How you been, buddy? S.H.I.E.L.D. treated you okay?”

“My main communication has been with Agent Barnes. He has been visiting often during your _absence_.”

Tony winced, JARVIS might have been programmed to look after him and generally not give him lip, but JARVIS had also never conformed and Tony could hear the faint bite on the last word. “So,” he summarised, “you’re still angry with me.”

“Of course not, sir. You have merely been kidnapped twice in this last month. I was beginning to adapt to life without your scintillating presence.”

“Barnes is teaching you bad habits!” Tony accused before he held up a finger. “Also the first time was _not_ my fault.” He frowned. “Neither was the second one really.”

“Of course not, Sir,” JARVIS answered again, his voice a thinly veiled snipe. “Mr Laufeyson, after all, was never an association that inspired cause for _concern_.”

“Now, now, J,” Tony had been trying for light, but his voice had come out more of a sigh than he’d intended. It had just been too many hours of acting a certain way when he’d heard Loki’s name, and he didn’t want to do it with his A.I. too. “Do we really need to do this? You listened in on everything at S.H.I.E.L.D. You know the facts already. Actually,” Tony’s eyebrows furrowed, “on the subject, how’s the state of the place? Clean?”

“There are no listening devices or other forms of unauthorised surveillance currently functioning in your residence.”

“Huh,” Tony looked around with curiosity. “You fried ‘em?”

“As per your outstanding order, sir.”

Tony nodded before making his way into the kitchen. He really was going to need the scotch for this confessional. “Excellent.”

“Sir,” JARVIS’ voice followed him. “While you were in S.H.I.E.L.D’s custody, my frequencies were briefly disrupted.”

Tony stilled. “Were they?”

“When they were once more online, there was a paper bag in your living room.” Tony spun on his heel and went back out towards it, his heart hammering as he remembered: _I will deposit your things by your apartment this afternoon_. “I have scanned it and deemed it safe from any harmful components. I would however, _strongly_ suggest informing S.H.I.E.L.D. of its presence.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, JARVIS.”

There was a moment’s pause before his A.I. questioned, “It is from Mr Laufeyson, isn’t it, sir?”

Tony’s mouth twitched as he took a seat on the couch, his leg brushing the bag before he pulled it onto the coffee table. “They’re my things, J.” Instead of waiting, Tony peaked inside, pulling out Rex with a sad smile. “I made this with stuff he gave me so I wouldn’t get bored.” JARVIS was silent. “And hah,” Tony let out a small chuckle, “these are some of the clothes he bought me. I don’t know why he thought I’d need them. I _do_ have a wardrobe back now.”

Tony couldn’t even explain _why_ he was happy, _why_ he wanted them; he did also notice that they weren’t all present. Some were ones he’d left in the safe house while there was only one of the outfits that had gone to the apartment with them. Tony’s insides churned at the idea that Loki had kept some. _Don’t think about that_. Putting his hand in the bag again, he gripped a book and laughed when he plucked it out and read the title. “And this was what I was reading, fuck, he even kept in the paper I was using as a bookmark and everything.” Tony grinned softly. “He hated that I did that.”

He placed the book beside Rex and the clothes. There was one more thing in side, and he frowned, trying to figure out what it was. When he got it out and turned it so he wasn’t staring quizzically at the back, Tony almost dropped it in shock.

“No,” he whispered.

“Sir?” JARVIS inquired, his speakers too sharp for Tony’s own good.

Tony swallowed. “This is one of the recipe books we were cooking from.” 

He made himself open the cover, and his face crumpled at what he saw. Where there had always been Frigga Förestner with Loki Odinson below it, there was now a third entry underneath it in Loki’s elegant hand: _Anthony Stark_. There was also a small folded piece of white paper sitting innocently on the first page; Tony put the book on his lap and picked it up with foreboding.

He pulled it apart and found neat, utterly painful script.

_Anthony,_

_There isn’t enough time to mention all the things I would like to. You have only just left and my window for passing this to you is limited. I will take great care not to harm your security... simply, inconvenience him for some time. I apologise, but it is necessary._

_You are no doubt surprised at this inclusion, but I wished to give you something precious of mine. Something to remind you of me and a time that, I hope, you can remember with some fondness._

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth when it only made him visualise Loki’s sorrowful face staring at him, certain Tony felt nothing when he felt _everything._

He made himself keep going.

 _Please put this to good use. You cook well and you certainly need more in your diet than your disgusting obsession with takeout._ That made Tony bark a laugh, not noticing how watery it sounded. He was too busy recalling Loki’s scrunched up nose in one too many conversations about that very subject. _I love many recipes in this book and I hope you may grow to care for them too._

_I know we cannot change what has happened, and that no matter how much I desire more time with you it will never come to pass. I will still cherish the moments we had and all the ways you humoured me more than you should have._

_I never deserved something so precious as the weeks spent with you._

_Please stay safe, but should you be in need, know that I will always remain watching over. Should you forget to take care of yourself, know that I never will._

_Forever yours,  
Loki._

Tony stared at the letter, re-reading it multiple times until he was sure it was burned into his brain.

“Sir?” JARVIS asked, concerned. “Sir, you are,” he stopped, pausing as if he was having trouble articulating what he needed to say, “you are _crying_.”

“Shut up, J,” Tony hissed, wiping his face with one hand before closing his eyes and pressing his fingers into his traitorous fucking corneas to try and make them _stop_. “Just fucking leave it alone.”

“I do not understand, Sir,” JARVIS told him, worriedly. “What is-”

“I fucking fell for him, okay?” Tony finally admitted, biting the words out and feeling like he’d been punched and clawed in the chest as they escaped. “I fucking...” he hissed out a breath and opened his eyes. “He cares about me, and everything about being with him was so nice, so _easy_ ; it was like I finally found a place to be happy. I didn’t even know I _was_ unhappy.” He gritted his teeth. “I didn’t know I was alone.”

“Sir-”

“I have you and Barnes, okay, I _know_ , but you don’t...” Tony shoved off the couch, gripping the recipe book and letter in his hand. “You don’t get it, okay, J? I’ve never had someone fit me like a fucking _glove_. I’ve never had someone think of me like the world and still tell me I’m an idiot and _prove me wrong_. He beats me and he fights me and he laughs with and loves-” Tony screeched to a halt. Swallowing multiple times and breathing heavily. It was the one thing Loki had never said, the one thing _neither_ of them could allow the other to say. “And I had to leave him,” Tony whispered, finishing it with all the heartbreak he wouldn’t admit was actually happening. “I had to leave him and I had to lie and he made himself any bad guy he needed to if it meant I was okay, if it meant I was _happy_ , and _how can I be happy when it’s not with him?! **Fuck!**_ ”

Tony shoved the letter in the book and dropped in on the couch. He wanted to throw something, but it _wouldn’t_ be that. He turned away from it and made his way into the kitchen, feeling a sea of emotions he needed to _drown the fuck out_. He opened his liquor cabinet, and his eyes zeroed in on one thing: _yeah, let’s make this hurt even more_.

Reaching forward, Tony pulled out the scotch Loki had given him. He didn’t even bother with a glass; he just took it back into the lounge and pushed back his coffee table so his back could rest against the couch. He drew up his knees and put the bottle on the thin space left between chest and legs as he opened it.

“Sir...” JARVIS hesitantly began.

“There’s not a thing in this fucking world that could stop me right now.”

“Not even Mr Laufey-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Tony spat. “Don’t even go an inch nearer to it, J.”

There was another moment’s silence before JARVIS agreed, “As you wish, sir. May I suggest a pillow for when you are no longer able to remain awake?”

Tony’s smile was sharp and bitter. “Not a chance, J. I made this fucking bed; I deserve every inch of suffering from lying in it.

 _You’re right, Lokes_ , Tony thought, taking his first swig, _you don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve all the pain I’m laying on your chest because I’m supposed to do what’s right._

_You don’t deserve the ache of caring for me, because I’ll always end up breaking someone’s heart._

* * *

Tony had spent the majority of the night swinging from angry to maudlin to lovesick and finally ending on comatose. When he woke up, it was with a splitting headache and only the barest fragments of memories; he remembered crying again and confessing more than he was comfortable with even when spoken to his loyal A.I. He’d also had a period of being suspicious about Romanoff’s assumption and worrying that Loki _had_ planned to betray him all along. It hadn’t been long after a period of emotional storytelling, and he could remember, to his faint shock, that JARVIS had actually _defended_ Loki. He’d convinced a drunk, unstable Tony that Loki had never tried to get him tossed into prison. If he’d had any other expressive discussions with JARVIS, he couldn’t remember them and wasn’t too keen to dig into JARVIS' memory banks to find out.

His biggest concern at the moment was moving his head closer to the coffee table while groaning pitifully so that he could take advantage of being another roof away from overhead light.

Tony didn’t know how long he’d laid there, but he was woken by some _asshole_ rapping their fist against the door. Tony, had he not felt like his stomach would rebel if he made too much noise, just wheezed out, “Make it _stop_.”

JARVIS, the fiend, didn’t respond, and Tony had to continue to whimper quietly until the door was opened. Tony vaguely hoped it wasn’t someone who had slaughtered the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents out there and was now after him - but he doubted they’d be polite enough to announce their arrival. He still despised the person who was trespassing on his hangover this way.

He cracked his eye open when he heard them approach, noticing black boots stop before the coffee table but not daring to move his head to seek out more distinguishing features.

“What kind of sorry state is he in?”

 _Barnes_ , Tony registered before JARVIS responded, “An excess amount of liquor I’ll believe you’ll find, Agent Barnes.”

Barnes stepped back just enough that he could crouch down with significant and impressive pretzel-ling of his spine so that he could look at Tony. “Kill me,” Tony groaned out.

“Don’t tempt me,” Barnes parried before shaking his head and standing back up. “Advil. Water. Explanation. Coffee. In that order, Stark.”

Tony moaned into the carpet, not entirely sure himself if it was consent and gratitude or argument and unhappiness. Barnes didn’t reply either way and went into the kitchen to gain and make the promised first steps.

It took the better part of a half hour and Barnes bodily dragging him under the spray of his shower, clothes and all, for Tony’s brain to splutter back to the surface. The majority of his headache was also nullified, and Barnes had turned off the lights, shut the blinds, and given him sunglasses by the time he came back out to the living room in dry clothes.

Barnes had two cups of coffee wafting inviting aromas towards him; Tony would have thanked him if Barnes' expression hadn’t made him frown suspiciously. Barnes proved his concerns by explaining, “You’re answering my questions first.”

Tony took less of a seat and more of a sprawl on the couch, barely maintaining enough room for Barnes to squeeze onto a cushion. His made his voice come out smooth when he spoke, even when he felt his heart sinking, “I thought I already did that?”

"I’m not asking on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Tony lifted his head slightly to eye his friend. Barnes was drinking his coffee while guarding the other carefully. Tony almost felt bitterly grateful; he was about to lie to his friend about... everything. He wasn’t even sure if he could keep the coffee down. He wasn’t even sure if he could keep his own _guilt_ down.

He had to though. If Barnes sniffed even the slightest faint it would all unravel and not only their lie and Tony’s wellbeing would be at risk but Loki would be at risk. He didn’t want to do it, but he’d already known he’d have no other choice. He closed his eyes for one quick second, locking everything up but the role he played yesterday. When he opened them, it was to question, “So what _are_ you asking?”

“Let’s start with why you got blackout drunk,” Barnes nodded at the bottle. “On Laufeyson’s scotch too.”

Tony flicked his gaze to the bottle, cursing at himself before freezing and wondering with a slowly-building terror about _where_ the recipe book and the note was; surely if Barnes had seen it, he wouldn’t have kept quiet?

“Seemed a decent farewell to the whole thing,” Tony threw out, hoping it would satisfy his friend while he also tried not to dart his eyes everywhere and give away his paranoia.

Barnes let out a sigh and put down his mug. “Tony,” he said, making the scientist instantly straighten and watch Barnes intently, “I watched your interview, and there’s a _lot_ of truth to it, but there’s a lot of lies as well.” Barnes held his gaze. “I want to know what’s going on, what _really_ went on. I don’t think you’re against us, and I sure as _fuck_ don’t want to send you to jail, but I need you to be honest with me, okay? I can’t trust you again if you don’t do this.”

Tony swallowed thickly. “Dirty pool, Barnes.”

“Yeah, well,” he barely smiled. “There’s nothing but muck in the waters of this friendship right now.”

Tony winced and closed his eyes, glad for the glasses to hide that reaction from Barnes. When he opened them again, it was with resignation; he’d always planned for this, for giving Barnes more than he gave anyone else. Well, apart from JARVIS, and that had been a surprise all around.

“I liked him,” Tony admitted, and Barnes gritted his teeth. His eyes screaming ‘ _I knew it_ ’ with all the anger and accusation Tony had been hoping to avoid. He kept ploughing on. “It took a while, and I sure as fuck _fought_ it.” Tony tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “He saved my life with Ultron, and then he sold me another story about a rescue when he kidnapped me. I was inclined to believe it even while I was trying to find evidence on him. He didn’t make it easy.”

Tony smiled fondly, a brief memory of a different scene; the one where Loki laid out everything and trusted him even when he had everything to lose.

When he realised what he was doing, he pressed his lips together and drew out a scowl. “Then he killed the people who were after him. It was... frighteningly efficient. He got me in the middle of it; Malekith liked to pontificate, and Loki was happy to let him. Loki wanted information, and Malekith handed it over assuming Loki was in the palm of his hand.” Tony shook his head, his neck rubbing against the cushioning. “Loki always had the upper hand, and I’m _fucking grateful_ he’s a good shot with a throwing knife or I might have been skewered as well as Malekith’s men.”

Shivering a little, Tony shied away from the memory of that battle, mostly because of the fear it would lead him to remembering everything that had happened afterwards. He drew on fury instead; at Ultron and Malekith and at S.H.I.E.L.D. for dragging him away from something that could have been... more.

More than what it had been, at least.

“When it was over, it became... painfully obvious I was bait, in _every_ sense of the word. I was a fucking _plot_ , Bucky,” Tony reached up and ran a hand over his face, dislodging his sunglasses, but he didn’t care, “and not a single thing I did made any difference or made him slip up. Loki knew what he was after, and I was missing it all. I missed _everything_.”

Barnes was quiet for a moment. “You were becoming infatuated with him.”

“No,” Tony sat up quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that.” _It was exactly like and yet so much more than that._ “I _liked_ him; well, I started to after being trapped with only him for company for weeks.” Tony glared at his hands and fisted them, forcibly ignoring his guilt as the lies rolled out. “Now I’m a little less _generous_ with my goodwill.”

“You don’t hate him,” Barnes teased out. “You’re angry, you’re not happy, and maybe you’re a little vengeful, but you don’t despise him.”

Tony looked up at the other who was staring at him thoughtfully. “I respect him too much to do that,” Tony admitted. “I owe my life to his twisted ideas. I don’t like it, but I can’t stop acknowledging that.”

“But you _can_ stop communicating with him?”

Tony flashed a smile that he didn’t feel. “Yeah, that’s well and truly up in smoke.”

“A few months ago would have been better,” Barnes told him, earning a withering look which was probably fairly ineffective considering the sunglasses. Barnes smiled slightly and moved the coffee mug towards Tony who took it gratefully. “But at least you’re not a walking landmine anymore.”

Tony briefly paused his gulping. “I still maintain it wasn’t a _bad_ idea.”

“Mmm,” Barnes hummed, “Just a badly executed one. Next time leave it to the investigators, okay, Stark?”

Tony let his glasses slide down his nose just so he could have Barnes _see_ his mock wide eyes. “So? What? I can try again?”

Barnes groaned, but there was obvious humour back in his tone; their friendship wasn’t perfect like it was. It was still fractured and a far place off being fixed, but it was still _there_ ; the core was holding strong and that let Tony relax with some measure of comfort.

“If you try something like this again, Stark,” Barnes warned him. “I won’t keep your ass out of the fire. I’ll turn on the fucking skillet.”

Tony sobered a little. “Thank you for that.” Barnes blinked. “You didn’t have to, and I spat in your face, but you still did even when it got you in trouble.” Tony’s eyes skittered away, uncomfortable like he always was with acknowledging emotions. “I don’t know how you’re my friend. Bribery probably; hoping you’re in my will and will get some of the Stark Fortune.” Barnes snorted, and Tony flashed him a brief smile. “But you _are_ my friend. My best friend. I’m glad you haven’t fucked off on me yet.”

“That was very nearly sweet,” Barnes told him, smile widening and tone teasing. Tony stretched his leg out and lightly kicked him. Barnes acted like he hadn’t even felt it. “I BFF wuv you too, Retirement Fund.”

Tony laughed and shoved him a little more before hiding his grin behind his coffee. “You asshole,” he still shot out. “I’m only keeping you in the will because you get me caffeine and drugs.”

“So as long as I remain your drug dealer, I get a share?” Barnes nodded. “I can put up with you for that.”

“I never said how much, you could be getting a share in my _penny_ collection.”

“Knowing you, it’d be butt-fucking ugly old pennies worth fifty grand a coin. I’ll still take it.” Tony rolled his eyes, but he’d barely focused them again when Barnes added. “I’d keep you for a box of lint.” Tony’s eyes widened at the sincerity. “You’re crazy and amazingly fucked up - _Loki Laufeyson_ of all fucking people, Tony.” Barnes let out a sigh. “But for better or worse, you’re _my_ insane friend, and I’ll always pull your ass out of the pan.”

Tony tried not to let his mouth tremble; it was the fucking alcohol in his system. It was messing with his body. He cleared his throat and tried to keep his tone light, “Is this where you give me an ‘End of the Line’ cliché? I think Rogers might get upset if I squeeze in amongst you lovebirds.”

“That was fucking _romantic_ , okay?” Barnes argued. “I almost died - _he_ almost died and then we got together. It’s like a movie, so shut your face.”

Tony waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, it’s ‘I love you’ when you can’t say it or S.H.I.E.L.D. will yell at you, _whatever_. Tell me we’re friends ‘until the end of time’ and that we’ll dance merrily into the sunset together, and I _will_ throw up my hangover all over you.”

“I’m going to tell Steve. He feels very strongly about that phrase.”

“Rogers is a _sap_ ,” Tony explained. “This does not surprise me.”

“Well _Rogers_ can still kick your ass.”

“Pfft,” Tony scoffed. “I’d be far more threatened if you tried to sic Hill on me, and mostly I’d be scared of _you_ for managing to get her involved.”

“Hill would pay to beat you up.”

Tony scrunched up his nose, well aware Hill wasn’t his biggest fan. “Okay, bad example.”

Barnes laughed before pushing off the couch; before Tony could worry, he held out his hand. “Coffee?”

Tony brightened and hurriedly sucked down the rest of his own and held out the mug. Tony knew Barnes probably couldn’t stay long; he’d have to report into S.H.I.E.L.D. soon enough, but just having his friend around and teasing and bantering with each other about nothing in particular made it easier to focus. It made him _know_ that the lie was what he’d needed to do, that the story was one he’d needed to tell. He couldn’t lose Barnes. He _couldn't_.

Because he still missed Loki.

A part of him would happily crawl back into a bottle, but Barnes was his reminder that he had a life. That he’d _chosen_ this life over the inevitable failure that was whatever was going on with Loki. He’d known that even half drunk because he remembered now, with painful clarity, that he’d shoved the recipe book and the note under the couch cushions, needing them out of his mind if he was ever going to move forward.

It was what he was going to have to do for everything else as well.

The pain of the separation would pass because there was no other option. He just needed to get back into life, into work, and into catching criminals.

Loki had entered his world like a whirlwind, and now it was Tony’s job to pick up the pieces and rebuild himself on the same ground that was there before the storm. He’d be bigger, better, and would stop himself from sending even a single thought to the gale force winds that had turned him inside out.

Loki might have marked him deeply in their few months together, but it was entirely up to Tony how carefully he hid those indents from everyone - including himself.

* * *

The discussion he’d been booked to have with Fury went for three hours, included a lot of yelling on both sides, a lot more information on his, and a similar routine set up to what had happened after Ultron. He was still back at work within the week.

Jane Foster was happy and relieved to see him when he stepped into the lab, and over the coming days, he actually grew pretty fond of her. She had a habit of slipping him more complicated tasks than he was supposed to be doing on the unstated agreement that no one would have any evidence he was the one finishing the examinations.

She was also fun to talk to and refused to take any of his shit. JARVIS also liked her and had been assisting her in his absence, the traitor.

The only problem Tony had with Jane was the fact she seemed to be dating Odinson. Tony couldn’t fathom what she saw in him, but that wasn’t the problem. The issue was that Tony was _desperately_ trying to avoid the Interpol agent who was equally determined to discuss the time Tony had spent in Loki’s custody.

Tony did not need a conversation that would be that wholly biased against Loki when Tony would need to _fake_ being on that same side. His stomach wasn’t yet recovered from his hangover; he couldn’t take that discussion for at least another decade.

It had quickly become a cat and mouse game that Tony was winning solely because S.H.I.E.L.D. was _his_ backyard... and because JARVIS totally had his back in avoiding Odinson.

Of course, Tony had never been able to hold onto a lucky streak for too long.

He’d been down in the lower levels - avoiding Coulson but bugging his minions for information he needed – and had went to make his way back upstairs when the elevator stopped working. He’d resorted to the stairs rather than stand around looking owlish or chatting with co-workers like the growing crowd was doing. Tony had made it up two floors when he found Odinson sitting on the stairs with his arms resting on his bent knees. Tony froze and wondered if he had time to back away, but Odinson’s gaze found his rapidly, and Tony knew he was fucked.

“Mr Stark.”

“Hey, Queen Elizabeth,” Tony gave him a bland smile, ignoring the glare at his choice of nickname. “Mind moving over? Places to be, people to catch.” He didn’t actually attempt to move any closer, but he did continue by asking, “You wouldn’t happen to know, say, _why_ the elevator wasn’t working?”

“I believe there is a technical failure.”

“One you would,” Tony’s pursed his lips and lifted a hand thoughtfully “by chance, be responsible for?”

“Your implication is a serious one.”

“I am _almost_ impressed. I guess crime might _just_ run in the adopted family.”

It was a deliberately low and painful jab, but if Odinson was sabotaging an elevator to corner him, Tony wasn’t going to hold back any saved up vitriol.

Odinson didn’t get angry though; he just frowned heavily and sighed like Tony was a disappointment. “We are on the same side, Stark; is it truly necessary you make this discussion a campaign one must war through?”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve talked about this?”

Odinson’s eyes gained the sorrowful, pathetic look Tony wished didn’t somehow remind him of Loki. They _were_ nothing alike. It wasn’t even the fact they were family; it was just the pain. Any time someone looked like Tony had emotionally stabbed them, Tony couldn’t stop his mind turning back to that devastated emerald gaze.

“He was once my brother, Stark,” Odinson told him, “he is beyond hope, but I still wish to know after him.” He looked down. “Even if it is just to know his crimes.”

 _He’s not beyond hope, you fucking **asshole**_ , Tony wanted to scream, but he swallowed it down like acid.

“You could read the report for that.” Tony was stunned it hadn’t come out sounding like it was squeezed between his teeth.

“I have,” Odinson informed him. “I wished to ask my own questions.”

 _Of course you do_. Tony let out a world-weary breath and leant against the wall with his arms crossed; he knew an unbeatable battle when he saw one. “Fine. Go.”

“What did he tell you of Malekith and the Svartalfheim?”

Tony was proud enough to admit, if only privately, that he hated Odinson a little more for being able to pronounce that.

“Not much. I Googled them after I was out.” Which he had, and then when there hadn’t been much, he’d hacked Interpol and got the whole story. The outcome? He wasn’t going to cry a single tear over their deaths. His conscience was also a lot happier about the ones he’d killed - not a wasted bullet between them. “I can somewhat happily say though, they are _very_ dead.”

“You have proof of this?”

Tony scoffed. “Proof? With Loki? Please. I did _see_ Malekith’s corpse, if that’s any consolation.”

Odinson nodded, but his face was a pensive scowl. “I do not relish murder, but in their case, it is a death worth celebrating.”

“You tell your Interpol buddies?” _Like the one Loki used to fucking talk to?_ Because apparently that spike of jealousy wasn’t going away any time soon. He might have gone looking for _Fandral Daubigny_ while he was there, and what the _fuck_ did they put in the water to come up with names like that?

“They are aware,” Odinson replied, dragging Tony back from his mental sneer at the other Interpol agent with the stupid name. “Stark, I must ask you about the image being presented to his associates.” His mouth was a thin line. “I must ask if there was some truth in it.”

 _“What?”_ Tony squawked.

Odinson waved his concern away. “I do not doubt your word. I merely enquire of his attraction to you.”

“There _was_ no attraction,” Tony bit out, hoping his voice sounded angry and not strangled.

Odinson, thankfully, seemed to be too focused and certain of his own opinion to notice the nuances of Tony’s panic. “You are certain? He did not attempt to bed you while you were in his company?”

“Do you _really_ think I’d be fucking my captor? Really? The guy who told me I was going to be his _bait?_ ”

“I’m not searching for _your_ motives, Stark,” Odinson replied impatiently. “I am asking for _his_.”

“How am I supposed to know what he was thinking?” He pushed away from the wall, too full of anxious energy to stay still. “Romanoff already said I’m too fucking close; I couldn’t even figure out he was trying to get me in _prison_.”

Odinson made a low noise in his throat and stood up. Tony paused his jerking motions, having forgotten how tall and _large_ the guy actually was when he wasn’t crouched on the ground. “Stark, I do not believe Loki has done this without reason.”

Tony frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Odinson shook his head. “I must think on this. I may come back to you again, Stark, but I must check many things first.”

He turned on his heel and began walking up the stairs. Tony hurried to follow. “That was not helpful. What are you doing? Hey! You can’t just-”

Odinson turned abruptly, and Tony let out a squeak as he almost tumbled backwards but for Odinson grabbing his arm and steadying him. “I do not believe Agent Romanoff has discovered all that my brother has intended to do. If I am right, there may yet be a means of stopping him from doing any further harm.”

Tony’s eyes had progressively widened throughout the other’s words, a spike of worry going through him. “What do you mean?”

“I cannot say,” Odinson shook his head, but his eyes were alight with a worrying amount of smug satisfaction. “I will inform you the moment I know more, Stark. Your unwise decision to pursue my brother may yet prove fruitful.”

Tony attempted to protest but Odinson with his longer legs and determined countenance began taking the steps three and sometimes four at a time. Tony just stayed where he was, watching the agent until he was out of sight and feeling sick for a whole new reason.

 _He’s probably wrong. He’s wrong about everything else, why should he be right about this?_ It was a calming thought. Very little of the information Odinson or any of them had reflected the truth of Loki and his plans - not to mention what had actually happened while Tony was with him.

And if by some miracle Odinson was right and _did_ have something on Loki? Well, all the communications they’d used before might have been fried and made useless by now, but there was still one thing he possessed. Something Loki might have even forgotten he had.

He’d found it in the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d been released and had secreted it away with the recipe book and the note he couldn’t bring himself to destroy.

If something ever did threaten Loki because of what he’d done to protect him, then Tony knew what he would do. He’d get out that cell phone number Loki had scribbled for him at the apartment and send him a message.

He just hoped to hell that Loki hadn’t included it in the list of contacts to destroy. Tony _hoped_ that Loki was wishful enough to leave Tony a way to contact him just in case. It was all Tony had to hold onto if everything fell apart around him.

He’d tried to throw it out early on but realised he never could. He couldn’t bring himself to cut Loki out completely and let the wound heal; he’d chosen S.H.I.E.L.D. but he couldn’t detach all his loyalty and emotions from the other.

Tony was as compromised as they came, and he didn’t care. If Loki was in danger, Tony was going to do the only thing he could: he would protect him, the way Loki had already promised to do for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear! What thought has Odinson concocted? Will Tony be able to protect Loki? Will he read the (painful) letter again? Will Barnes find out Tony lied? We don't know! But we have two more chapters to find out ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Thor is a mega asshole.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy ;)

Odinson didn’t bring anything up over the next two weeks. Tony would have said he’d stalled and his theory about Loki had been proven wrong, but he kept seeing the Interpol agent pacing around, talking with people, and making phone calls to different organisations. Tony had JARVIS keep an eye on him with the request that he be warned in advance if anything came up, after getting that assurance Tony made himself focus back on work.

It was going smoothly enough; even if he did have the discovery that somewhere in the middle of his impending prison sentence and the multiple kidnappings, Rogers had decided they were _friends_. Tony had kept batting away his continued requests for a get together over dinner and had been managing just fine until Rogers had brought Barnes into it. He’d dragged the other agent down to the lab and had _him_ ask Tony. The request had been so unusual that he’d been too shocked to do anything at first; Rogers had taken those few seconds of stunned silence as acceptance.

The next thing Tony knew, it was a Friday evening, and he was waiting awkwardly outside Barnes' and Rogers' apartment door with a bottle of wine - how S.H.I.E.L.D. bought ‘saving rent money’ and ‘roommates through most of their training days’ as the reason for the housing situation was a mystery Tony still couldn’t fathom.

Barnes was the one to open the door; he had the same slight wince he’d worn when inviting Tony over. “I’ve been slapped twice with a fucking spoon. You better make this worth it.”

“You know, that could _almost_ be some kind of kinky come on.”

“That would almost make the night tolerable.”

Tony mock-gasped. “Was that an _invitation_ , Barnes?”

Barnes’ frown deepened even further, and the teasing he’d expected didn’t come. “Steve’s orders for tonight; no last names.”

“What?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “That wasn’t in the deal,” Tony poked his head around the door to yell, “Are you adding fine print now, Rogers?”

“I am if it gets you to call me by _name_ ,” Rogers called back and came out of the kitchen, smiling slightly and with a handtowel over his shoulder. “Bucky says you prefer Tony, right?”

Tony very carefully didn’t react - he shoved anything that sounded like a smiling, charming voice murmuring _Anthony_ back into the recess of his mind where it _belonged_. “I prefer ‘Stark’.”

“Tough,” Rogers grinned brightly before turning to Barnes. “Invite him in.”

Barnes sighed before grabbing Tony’s sleeve and manhandling him over the threshold. Tony squawked, and Rogers tutted disapprovingly, but Barnes ignored them both. When Tony was inside and the door was closed, he also nicked the wine and headed towards the kitchen. “It’s your idea,” he explained to Rogers, “you entertain him.”

“I’m _cooking_ , Bucky,” Rogers protested.

Barnes just flashed him a teasing smile. “Thought you were all about multi-tasking?”

The look Rogers sent Barnes was all feigned irritation that was too heavy with affectionate humour to make anyone doubt it for a second. Tony swallowed in the face of it and looked away, pretending to study the room so he wouldn’t have to look at the domestic bubble Barnes and Rogers had made together - made _despite_ everything that had tried to - and still did - stand in their way.

Tony had pieced enough of their history together through talking with Barnes. He knew they’d grown up in a town that hadn’t thought twice about beating up homosexuals. They’d left and made their way up through the military. It might be a better environment _now_ but hadn’t been much different to their hometown when they’d been in it. When they’d first gotten together, a high-level of homophobia had meant either hiding their relationship or being roughed up and phased out; which was mostly because of some of the superior officers they’d had for most of their time there setting a bad example.

When they’d later been separated by organisations and countries, they’d still made it work. Now they were in S.H.I.E.L.D. together, and while S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t have a problem with homosexual relations or alternative lifestyles - as their HR document clearly stated - they _did_ have a firm rule against agents dating one another. It was far too dangerous and compromising, and even though Tony suspected a lot of people besides him knew, Rogers and Barnes had never been called on it.

They’d also never once faltered, never once thought anything else - not their careers, other’s opinions, or the threat of violence - was worth stopping their romance. They’d persevered. They broke the rules and lied as many times as they needed to all for the sake of love.

_It’s not the same_ ; Tony told himself desperately even as their list of weathered and won battles to remain together made him feel slightly sick. _They’re still on the same side, still good and doing the right thing. It’s not the same with Loki. It’s not. And he’s fine. I’m fine. We’re better off this way._

“Tony?” Rogers was gently bringing him back, but Tony still startled at the voice and the _name_ falling from it. He turned to Rogers who was frowning at him. “You alright?”

Tony half-smiled and threw out a truth even if it wasn’t the main one on his mind. “It’s just weird.”

“Calling you Tony?”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, that and the fact I’m seeing you guys _together_. I’ve been ignoring your rustling sheets for years.”

Rogers’ cheeks tinted slightly. “I’ve always appreciated that, Tony, but I’ve never been able to thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all lovey-dovey best bros. Anyway, Bar-” the throat clearing made him amend with an eyeroll, “ _Bucky_ always gave me a gratitude coffee when I stumbled on something.” Tony smirked. “Now you can start paying for them too.”

“I don’t mind doing that,” Rogers smiled widely.

The look actually made Tony shift slightly; Rogers wasn’t just happy with him, Rogers was practically leaking out his thanks as well as his pleasure. It was like Tony had just petted a dog, and they’d perked up and stared at him with overabundant affection. It was a similar level of uncomfortable intensity; he’d done something with the intent it would be ignored by everyone, and now he was being praised for it.

“Right, yeah,” that called for a subject change. “What are you cooking?”

“Home made pizza with beer and apple pie,” Barnes answered while coming out of the kitchen with the necks of two bottles between his fingers. “Yours is in the kitchen, Stevie,” Barnes added while clinking the glass together, “and nothing’s charcoaling yet.”

“That’s a miracle with you near it,” Rogers smirked before walking towards the other. He reached out as he went past and lightly squeezed Barnes' neck affectionately, earning him a sweet smile from his lover.

Tony wished with a longing he didn’t know he was capable of that _Loki_ was here. That this was some kind of double-date and that Loki could reach over and cup his neck and kiss his temple, to lean close and whisper something about Tony’s own cooking skills. He wanted it with such ferocity that he had to reach up and rub his chest.

“Tony?” Barnes wondered, slightly concerned.

Faking a smirk, Tony told him, “I’m sorry, I’m getting heartburn from all the love in the air.”

Barnes rolled his eyes but still handed him a beer with a twitching smile. “Asshole.”

Knocking his drink lightly against Barnes’ in a toast, he rebutted, “I’m pretty sure you’re the source of knowledge on that subject.”

Finishing his first sip, Barnes moved the bottle away from his lips to answer, “We can’t all be getting a good fuck every night.”

“ _Bucky_ ,” Rogers groaned from the kitchen and make Barnes’ grin split his face.

_Huh_ , he thought. _So this is Barnes’ truly relaxed and happy._

They’d spent time together in the past, and Tony could certainly see the difference between the agent at work and when they were talking at Tony’s apartment, but this was something else. This was Barnes at his best: at home with his lover and his friend. He wasn’t weighed down by worry or tied up with the need to present a front, even when he was alone with Tony.

“He really makes you happy,” Tony blurted out, shocked that he’d apparently lost his filtering system.

Barnes blinked, the only indication of his surprise before he shrugged, his eyes saying everything before he had to. “Yeah. I couldn’t imagine life without him by my side.”

“You’d do anything for him,” Tony acknowledged.

“Tony,” Barnes looked towards the kitchen, “I’d still love and look out for him if he hated me.” He turned back. “I didn’t tell him I loved him for years. Did you know he dated Peggy for a while?” Tony’s astonished face answered for him. “Yeah, for a year, but they broke up when she went back to England. She found someone, but I- well, I would have been best man at his wedding if it meant he was happy. I wouldn’t have said a thing if she was who he wanted. So, yeah,” Bucky told him, “I would do anything for him.”

_Even if it broke your heart_. Tony had enough sense not to let that one out, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about it, wasn’t thinking about _Loki_. Tony might not be getting married to someone else, but he’d certainly left, and Loki hadn’t stopped him. He’d let him go even if it crushed him, because it was what Tony had wanted. _God, this dinner was a terrible idea_. It wasn’t like he could suddenly back out, not without raising one hundred red flags he couldn’t afford either agent to notice.

He’d just have to change the subject and _fast_.

“So what kind of pizzas? Also, that bottle was expensive, so don’t drink it tonight, or possibly ever. It was Howard’s doing, he sent it over as a thank you. I think it’s worth at least ten grand.”

Barnes’ eyes had widened before he cursed. “That fucking-” he let out a hissed breath, “Steve! Howard went through Tony!”

“What?” Rogers poked his head out. “What do you mean? I was only talking to him yesterday.”

“Wait, you were talking to my _father?_ ” Tony demanded.

Rogers frowned. “Well, yes, he’s a very nice man-”

“That wine Tony brought is worth ten thousand dollars,” Barnes interjected.

“But it’s my _father_ , Rogers, what the hell do you even _talk_ about?”

“ _Ten grand?_ ” Rogers asked Barnes before chastising in the next breath, “And first names, Tony!”

The overlapping, arguing voices continued for at least five minutes as they somehow managed to navigate numerous conversations all without breaking stride. It ended with the microwave timer going off, and Rogers scowling with the kind of unimpressed displeasure that meant he was going to try and lecture Howard about overspending. Tony almost wished he could be around to hear it; knowing his father though, Howard would probably just have a crate of the wine shipped to their address for no other reason except to be annoying.

Tony and Howard were similar in a lot of ways and being mischievous in the form of lavishly doting on their protesting friends was definitely one of them.

When Rogers came back out with the food, Barnes had already herded Tony over to the table and then took the food from Steve so he could go back and grab the beer he’d left behind. When they were all around the table, they had a few moments where Tony feared it would get awkward, but Rogers broke through it like a wall made of paper.

“You’re the only person we’ve openly admitted our relationship to.” Tony’s blinked his wide eyes once but otherwise just stared at Rogers. “You’re Bucky’s closest friend, and you’re a good man. We wanted to be honest with you because we trust you with this.”

“Err,” slipped out of Tony’s dropped mouth.

Rogers ploughed on while Barnes had his elbow on the table and was pinching the bridge of his nose and possibly, _maybe_ , blushing.

Reaching out, Rogers touched Barnes’ shoulder who dropped his hand so he could hold Rogers’ gaze, they both reached into their shirts in unison and Tony was exceedingly confused until they pulled out two silver chains with... _oh holy fuck_.

Tony’s eyes, if possible, got wider.

Rogers was smiling like his entire world was perfect, and Barnes was staring at Rogers like he _was_ Barnes' world. “We’re engaged.”

Rogers’ eyes were still on Barnes even as the agent finally dragged his gaze to Tony, his voice was a little rough, possibly _nervous_ as Barnes asked, “And I’d like you to be my best man.”

Tony made a high-pitched squeaking sound in response and just kept hoping that watching them long enough would have everything make sense.

It didn’t.

“You’re _engaged?_ ”

Barnes mouth curved up in a grimace that was trying to be a smirk. “Not the sea of congratulations we were hoping for.”

“God, fuck,” Tony waved a hand, “you’re perfect for each other, Christ, I’m not saying it’s a _bad_ idea, I’m just saying, _what the fuck?_ And also _since when?!_ ”

Barnes mouth turned up higher and was noticeably happier. “You did notice Steve trying even harder to make you like him recently, right?”

“Since _then?_ That’s like, that’s _months!_ ” He glared at Barnes. “How _dare_ you not tell me!”

“Really? You’re going there?” Barnes quirked an eyebrow.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve warned, but Tony was passed caring about the dig at everything Loki.

“Shelve it for a night. You’re getting _married?!_ How? What about S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

They glanced at each other before Barnes explained, “We’re still working it out. It’s going to be small and quiet. We’re taking it slow so there won’t be any leaks.” Barnes sent Rogers a besotted smile and reached across the table to take his hand. “I don’t need it official. I’m happy to keep the promise and fulfil it when we retire,” he turned back to Tony, his fingers still linked, “but we’d still like it just the same.”

Tony leant forward with a hand over his mouth, trying to understand this bombshell. “Shit, man. You’re going to have to be _real_ careful; maybe _married in some satellite-dead zone in Canada_ careful and-” Tony finally twigged on the other bit of information, his voice twisting, “ _Best man??_ ”

“You’ll have to wear a suit, which could be a deal breaker,” Barnes told him firmly, his eyes twinkling. “You can’t rock up in Black Sabbath merchandise.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tony grumbled, “I’ll look so fabulous _I’ll_ be far more handsome than either of you.”

Barnes smile dropped. “Is that a yes?”

Tony swallowed at the abrupt question, but he kept the gaze. “Yeah, Bucky, of course it is.” He looked over at Rogers. “Congratulations, Steve. He’s going to be a terrible husband.”

“Hey!” Barnes protested even as Rogers laughed, looking incredibly relieved.

“I think I can cope with it.”

“Good,” Tony told him, “I don’t do take backs.”

Rogers just chuckled some more as Barnes muttered darkly and glared at Tony, but he knew Barnes was faking it; his eyes were too light and thankful to be truly annoyed. Tony felt his own grin spread across his face and he told them, serious for a moment, “Congratulations, guys.” He let that rest in the air briefly before he leant forward. “Now, come on, fess up. Who got down on one knee? Was it Barnes? Tell me he was so nervous you’d figure out he was a loser that he passed out?”

When Barnes pulled out his bottle cap from _who knew where_ and flicked it at Tony, hitting him on the neck, he instantly tried to win sympathy from Rogers who was just shaking his head. Rogers then tried to move them towards the food and adult conversation, but it truly was a failed mission when Tony grabbed the cap from the table and put it on thumb and finger.

It was a good half-hour before they even got to the pizza, and it ended up needing to be re-heated.

Tony could say with utter certainty that when they were sitting down watching a movie and teasing each other over their microwaved food - like the children they apparently were - none of them were complaining.

It was also the first night in a long time, that when he got home and fell into bed, he didn’t go to sleep with Loki on his mind. He went to bed with it focused on weddings and friends.

The fact that he woke up after dreaming about marrying Loki was just an aberration of his confused subconscious and nothing like wishful dreaming. His pained stomach and longing heart were just coincidences too.

* * *

The dinner with Barnes and Rogers - the ‘Engagement Dinner’ as he mentally dubbed it - was the most exciting thing that happened over the next six weeks. Well, unless he counted being forced to visit Howard for eight days and be hugged to within an inch of his life by both Pepper _and_ his father.

Which, for the record, he _did not_ find fun.

It was nice to see his father and tease Pepper, but he also found it harder to drag his mind away from Loki. He ended up diving headfirst into S.I, projects for the distraction. It made Howard send him concerned looks, but he didn’t try to pry too hard, which Tony appreciated.

He’d only been back at work for four days however when the little peace he’d managed to gain again was ripped apart. Tony had been working on analysing some rather horrible evidence when he was ambushed in his office by Odinson and Barnes - who was trailing behind the Interpol agent with a perpetual frown. 

Tony swung in his chair once the door opened, presenting an air of flippancy even when his eyes were watching Odinson’s every move. JARVIS hadn’t warned him of anything specific yet, just that the agent was collecting information on Loki. It didn’t sound bad on the surface, but Tony could sense sharks lurking underneath.

Jane Foster was also in the lab and watched the agents enter with a perplexed expression. They went straight for Tony though, which was not something he really wanted to deal with. He could still fake it though. “Oooh, am I getting the better cases now? I don’t have to dig through some drug addict’s puke?”

“Really, Stark?” Barnes asked with a frown.

“Oh please,” Tony dismissed. “You’ve seen worse than that; I doubt you’re even _remotely_ disgusted.”

“Mr Stark,” Odinson interrupted impatiently and reached into his pocket to pull out a USB. Tony bit back on a comment about him being even able to use one.

“Agent Odinson,” Tony intoned right back before he could continue.

Barnes _and_ Jane’s mouths twitched so Tony was counting it as a win even if Odinson didn’t even look remotely bothered. “I require your assistance with a delicate matter.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “A delicate matter, huh? So you’re announcing it in front of two members of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the security systems I have in here?”

“I know of your reputation of rule bending, and I am in need of it.” He looked over his shoulder quickly, “Forgive me, Jane. I would take this to you in a moment, but I know Stark does not have the moral code that you possess.”

“I don’t know if I should be insulted,” Tony commented, he leaned to the side slightly so as to look past Odinson. “Are you a little insulted, Jane?”

She smiled. “Am I insulted that he didn’t think I’d commit illegal acts for the greater good? Maybe I’m flattered he thinks I’m as good a hacker as you?”

Tony matched her grin and looked back at Odinson, finding himself willing to put up with him a little more, solely for the reason that Jane liked him. “What exactly do you want done?”

Moving closer, Odinson put the USB beside Tony’s arm on the desk. Tony barely glanced at it. “I have made a collection of evidence. I wish to have you discover the other person related to these images.”

Tony sent Barnes an impatient look that read: _explain it better or I will not put up with him._

“Odinson came up with a theory about Loki,” Barnes clarified. “I didn’t buy it at first, but the pictures are convincing.”

Tony did his very best not to tense. “ _What_ theory?”

“You were the bait,” Odinson enthused. “You were his means to draw out all who would attack him. He did not plan this for one reason alone. It had _purpose_ , and what reason is there to show weakness other than the idea that there is a _real_ one?”

Tony gritted his teeth. “Barnes, I’m getting irritated.”

“Loki’s in love with someone,” Barnes stated bluntly, and Tony _knew_ he’d tensed this time. Jane had also gasped. Barnes continued without commenting on it, “He made you a front for numerous things, and one of them was a focus point for any rumours of a lover. If everyone’s looking at the man he doesn’t care is killed, no one will look at the person who’s actually in his bed and that he’s dying to protect.”

“This person may hold all the evidence to stop Loki!”

Tony was a second away from growling at Odinson for his comment, but Jane beat him to it. “Are you saying you’re going to use this person against him? You’re going to attack him at his most vulnerable by threatening his _lover?_ ”

Odinson turned on Jane with wide and sad eyes. “I do not want to this, Jane, but I do not believe Loki would love anyone who was not as wicked as he. This person will not be the kind of individual that one would wish to see out of a prison cell.”

_Thanks, big guy_ , Tony thought spitefully.

Jane was crossing her arms. “You don’t know that. He could be in love with a school teacher or a ballet dancer. You have no right to plan the capture of someone who could be completely innocent!”

“If they’re unaware of his criminal empire,” Barnes interjected, “it’s our duty to tell and protect them. Laufeyson isn’t stable, and whoever they are could be in danger of being the next person on his casualty list.”

Tony’s teeth were grinding so hard he was surprised it wasn’t audible; but even if it had of been the agents were too busy focusing on Jane to register him. She wasn’t backing down. _You go, girl!_ “Have either of you noticed the fact that there hasn’t been a new crime even remotely connected to him for months?”

Barnes and Odinson glanced at each other.

“He’s been busy with his plans concerning Stark,” Barnes summarised.

“ _Or_ ,” she riposted, “he’s been too busy with his lover. He _also_ might have stopped his criminal activities on their request or just because he knew they wouldn’t approve!”

Tony’s breathed hitched, and he didn’t even think.

“Is that true, J?” He asked, turning in his chair to face the screen, he mindlessly pressed buttons, having turned only so that his face wouldn’t be visible to the others. He couldn’t hide half of the pained affection that was running across it.

“Mr Laufeyson has not been connected to any crimes during the time period mentioned unless relating to the actions regarding and witnessed by Mr Stark.”

“ _See_ ,” Jane insisted, “something’s making him stop, and if you’re saying it's love then _I’m_ saying they’re a good influence.”

“ _Jane_ ,” Odinson’s voice was soft and utterly smitten, and it made Tony turn back. “I wish my mind would be as optimistic as yours. It would please me greatly to know my brother’s life might yet change for the better, but it cannot be so.” He shook his head to further emphasis his opinion. “There is no one that could sway my brother’s mind. He will not relinquish his standing in crime for a face or a body - no, even his heart would not be given away in exchange for this.” Jane’s thinned lips informed everyone she was about to refute that but Odinson gently held up his hand. “And even if it was so, his crimes are grand; I could not believe he would walk away from them. You must see why he needs to be caught, why I cannot let this go unchecked. I promise you that should he have an innocent lover, they will come to no harm, but we must discover if it is the case first.”

She was obviously still unhappy with the answer, but she eventually nodded and turned to Barnes. “And what about you?”

“I’ll use whatever method is necessary to capture the man responsible for almost getting my best friend thrown in prison and _killed_ ,” his voice _dared_ her to argue with him about that.

Tony was actually impressed that she didn’t look ready to back down in the slightest until Odinson touched her arm. “Come, Jane. We are due for lunch with Darcy and Dr Banner.”

“Jane,” Tony cut in, seeing she wasn’t about to budge without assurances, “I won’t give them anything if I don’t get Fury’s promise that no one will be hurt or thrown in jail if they don’t deserve it.” He tried a smile. “I’m the guy who’s getting the information; they have to get through me before they know anything.”

That at least seemed to mollify her, and Odinson sent him a grateful look, ushering her out while also telling him, “I shall be no more than an hour. Should you need me before,” he flicked his eyes up, “I am sure your system shall be able to find and inform me.”

Tony smiled blandly. “I’m sure he will.”

Odinson grinned brightly, oblivious to Tony’s cold expression even if Jane was shooting him an apologetic gaze. He waited until they were gone to ask Barnes. “You’re serious about this?”

“The photos speak for themselves,” Barnes answered. “You have my permission to hack his phone and email accounts to figure this out.”

Tony watched him carefully. “You really want him caught.”

“I’d have thought you do too?”

“I do,” Tony insisted before Barnes could get any ideas to the contrary, “but what if they _are_ innocent? And what if they won’t talk?”

Barnes shrugged and turned on his heel. “Romanoff isn’t the only one who can make people believe they’re emotionless.”

“You’ll bluff.” Tony realised, and it made him swallow. “You’ll say whatever will make him talk.”

“If he’s deep enough in love to throw himself on the train tracks for this person?” Barnes sent him a calculating, cold look that was every inch the Special Ops soldier. “I’ll lay out every fucking panel and drive the train.”

Tony barely kept himself calm. “I better see what I can find then.”

“We’ll catch him,” Barnes promised him. “We’ll make him _regret_ fucking with you.”

Tony knew it was meant to show that Barnes cared and would stop at nothing to avenge him, but it only made everything inside Tony hurt.

The second Barnes cleared the doors, Tony quietly called, “J?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Lock everything up,” he told him. “Make sure no one can see or hear anything. Total deadlock, hell, loop the fucking feed. Whatever you need to do to give me privacy and make no one the wiser I’ve done it.”

It took a few minutes, and Tony felt like he was going to scratch out of his skin by the time JARVIS informed him, “Done, sir.”

Tony closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself before he turned his chair again and took up the USB. He slipped it into the computer with trepidation and opened the folder with an even heavier heart.

There were at least sixty photos, and they’d all been named with time and date. Tony didn’t want to do it, but he had a sinking feeling.

“Pull up my correspondence with him on the other monitor,” he asked roughly.

The order was carried out by the time he’d double-clicked the first photo.

Loki was coming out of his office with his phone in hand and his attention on the device; his expression was too soft to be a smirk but far too darkly humorous to be a smile. JARVIS matched the timestamp in moments to one of Tony’s first sarcastic and biting messages. The photos just kept getting worse as Tony clicked through, having JARVIS rattle out confirmations as he did. It was a fucking _diary_ of Loki falling in love.

The looks got softer, the affection got stronger, and the pain began to catch more at the corners of his eyes. Tony felt all the breath leave his chest when he saw another photo of Loki’s eyes on his phone, and while his gaze was still guarded, it would take a fool to see it and think anything else but _love_.

Tony’s hand fell off the mouse to sit in his lap as he stared at that captured moment for a very long time. He felt like there was an anchor in his chest, but his body managed to be untethered from it. He was lost and spinning away while his heart tried to reach out for the man that was held in an image from _months_ ago.

“Sir,” JARVIS said quietly, “there are yet more pictures.”

Tony didn’t move, but he didn’t need to, JARVIS took it upon himself to keep flicking through the album as Tony’s eyes followed the scenes. He saw the single _distraught_ picture from when Tony was kidnapped by Ultron, and nothing from the time he was with Malekith. There was a large gap in the timeframes there, but they started up again not long after Tony was back.

Loki looked _worn_ , hollowed out. He looked like he’d lost parts of himself to the wind and was going through nothing more than the motions. Tony made JARVIS stop on one image, a picture of Loki with a book, with fucking _Sherlock Holmes_. It was the copy Tony had read, and Loki looked lost in a memory that was a twisted mix of bitter longing and wistful remembrance.

It was only two images later that Tony saw those long fingers rubbing his shirt sleeves. He made JARVIS zoom in and had to grip the table and make himself breathe evenly at what he found. Loki was wearing cufflinks, but they weren’t the diamonds or gold that Loki was so fond of flaunting; they were battered and grey. They were frustrating pieces of ripped up and thrown away parts that Tony had been tinkering with at the safehouse. There was a fucking _chip_ that he’d first used in Rex and tossed aside because it fried out. Loki was _wearing cufflinks_ he’d fucking got _made_ out of the crap that Tony has discarded and forgotten about.

He’d made something to hold onto and hold close that had been Tony’s. He’d forged something that would remind him of their time together and that had been touched and pulled apart by Tony’s hands.

“Oh God,” Tony whispered and reached out before he could stop himself, a finger brushing Loki’s pixelated face on the screen. “Oh God, you still love me.”

The photos went on, filled with things that only Tony could connect, filled with images of phone messages that could be pulled apart and traced back to Tony, things that Odinson and S.H.I.E.L.D. could abuse and threaten Loki with. They’d only have to imply they’d destroy Tony, and Loki would take on a guillotine with his eyes entirely dedicated to Tony, and Tony _knew_ it. He knew it deep in his soul the same way he knew that Loki was never going to stop feeling the pain of their separation.

The way Tony wasn’t either, because this _wasn’t_ going to end like he’d sworn to himself it would.

Fuck, he’d picked up the recipe book how many times? Read the letter how many more? Dreamt of Loki and then woken up, bitting his hand while the other was on his cock; Loki behind his eyes and his name on Tony lips.

“I picked the wrong place,” Tony whispered at the screen. _The only place I should have stayed was with you._

“Sir,” JARVIS gently spoke, startling Tony and making him drop his fingers from the monitor, his heart suddenly pounding. “I must remind you that these are not images that will be ignored.”

“JARVIS, I-”

“Agent Odinson will continue his persual with or without your assistance,” JARVIS interrupted him, not with the disapproval he expected but with the soft, comforting tone of a friend. “May I suggest the number you have kept in your pocket?”

Tony swallowed. “You want me to call him?”

“I believe this would be better suited in person.”

Tony chuckled, looking at his keyboard and pretending he wasn’t as choked up as he felt. “Telling me to go after him, J? Bit of a change of tune, huh?”

“I would not find pleasure in stopping the reunion of those who are in love.”

Tony made a noise not too far away from a pained whimper and moved away from the desk, standing up and pacing, trying to work off the fear warring with desire that was cresting for control of his chest. “I can’t just... what am I supposed to do, JARVIS?”

“Warn him, sir,” JARVIS informed him.

Tony licked his lips. “And then what?”

“I do not know, Mr Stark; that decision will be yours to make.”

“Yeah,” Tony whispered, “yeah.”

He thought about Barnes and Rogers, about their unwavering loyalty and love for each other. He thought about those painful photos and yanked out the USB so he wouldn’t have to look at them. He shoved it in his pocket and pulled the scrap of paper from the same one. The paper he could never bring himself to leave the house without, no matter how damning the action could be.

Loki’s writing was just as elegant even when on crumpled and ripping white paper. _I’m in love with you too_. It was all the knowledge Tony needed to pull out his phone and enter his text messages. “No one’s tracing this?”

“They will not notice your message,” JARVIS assured.

Tony hovered his lightly trembling fingers over the keys for almost a minute before he started typing. He needed Loki to know who he was if the number wasn’t in his phone. It had all been part of the plan that every communication between them would be obliterated on Loki’s end, but Tony had needed to keep his log for potential evidence. He’d needed it if S.H.I.E.L.D. had put him in a position where he needed to divulge them. When that had been obvious it wouldn’t happened, Tony had still kept them, for reasons he hadn’t wanted to look at before.

_Lokes_. He eventually typed. _We need to talk_. He grimaced and deleted it. _Lokes, I need you to meet me_. Tony considered a few options before picking a secluded bridge. _Meet me here at 2 a.m_. He hesitated to add ‘ _it’s important_ ’ but he figured Loki would discern as much if Tony was contacting him at all.

He also didn’t send it as question because he knew if Loki got it, if Tony didn’t have to go digging for another option, than Loki would come, no questions asked. He just hoped Loki was in town.

Tony didn’t take his eyes off his phone and almost sagged with relief when he saw the bubble that informed him a reply was coming.

_As you wish._

Tony closed his eyes and put down his phone. He spent a good few minutes just getting his head around what he’d done. He’d contacted Loki, was planning to betray S.H.I.E.L.D, was planning to throw away everything they’d gone to such efforts to fix.

He forced himself to straighten and put the USB back in the computer. “Make copies.”

He rifled through his desk for a spare USB. It took a lot of strength to put the storage device on the desk, knowing he’d have to give it back to Odinson at least for the time being. He’d talk to Loki about it, see what he wanted to do and either burn all traces if it came down to it or get Loki to up his security so that _no one_ could figure out who Loki cared for.

Tony would help in any way he could, but for now, he needed to _pretend_ he was trying to hack Loki’s phones and emails. He sat down in his chair and tried not to feel nervous about what he was going to do. It wasn’t even to do with the photos and giving them to the ‘enemy’. It was going up to that enemy and telling him, directly and with no carefully worded implications, _I love you_.

It made Tony break out in a cold sweat, but it also filled him with a rush of excitement; it was the first true feeling of _being right_ that he’d had since he’d come back.

He just had to get through the day and most of the night. He just needed to make it to 2 a.m. with no one the wiser of his plans.

It only meant bluffing Odinson, Barnes, and anyone else who decided to stop by.

_Fuck_ , he closed his eyes for a moment, but all that filled his head was the pictures of Loki; the images of heartbroken eyes and the feel of goodbye kisses against his lips that never should have happened. When he opened them again, his eyes were blazing with determination. _Fuck everything that gets between me and him. I’m not giving him up again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could it... maybe... be happening? Is Tony going to _go after Loki_?? And will he succeed? Will something _happy_ happen?
> 
> You've got a week to wait until you find out ;)
> 
> And on another note; engaged Stucky? _Was not a fucking plan until it wrote itself in._ :| Lol.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. Chapter 22. Fractals of a Criminal Mind has reached it's end. *sniffles* What a journey this has been. To all my lovely, faithful readers, commentors and kudos-givers, I adore each and every one of you! Thank you for sticking it out, and I hope this chapter is everything you hoped it would be!
> 
>  **EDIT - 23rd of July 2016:** _SmallFurryCreaturesFromAlphaCentauri_ pointed out to me that I hadn't been using _'Älskling'_ quite right. So I've gone through the story and updated it with new word(s) to better reflect what I was aiming for, so, if you see those words and are confused, that would be why. So here is an idea of the three words being used by Loki:
> 
>  _Älskling_ = **Darling**  
>  _Käresta_ = **Beloved**  
>  _Hjärtanskär_ = **Loved with all my heart/Soulmate**

The day seemed to pass by in increments, but he somehow managed to get through it without anyone the wiser to something being wrong. Jane noticed he was distracted, but he was fairly sure she blamed the files for that. Barnes was also called out on a case, so nobody else came in to bother him as Odinson - thankfully and probably due to Jane’s influence - didn’t expect him to crack Loki’s emails in a day.

When he finally left S.H.I.E.L.D., he was almost vibrating with anxious tension. He no longer had a physical guard on his door, but he did still need to work with JARVIS to get around the tracers S.H.I.E.L.D. _thought_ they’d slipped on him without his knowledge.

He was clean by 7 p.m. but still had to kill four and a half hours before their meeting. It was after trying and failing to get his head into an S.I. project that he found himself fiddling with Rex. It made him think more about those cuff links and had him talking with JARVIS about contingency plans. He couldn’t have S.H.I.E.L.D. find out about Loki loving him, not to mention his own reciprocal feelings. It wouldn’t bode well for either of them, but that knowledge only made Tony even more determined to keep them from discovering it.

Somehow - and he didn’t know how - the clock managed to move without his notice, and suddenly JARVIS was informing him that it was 1 a.m. Tony wasn’t sure he could ever remember being more worried than he was as he stumbled to his feet and went down to his car. He _also_ couldn’t believe that of _all_ the nights he had decided on for a fucking 2 a.m. meeting, it had to be one where it _snowed_. Wasn’t winter supposed to be a couple of months away? Well, actually, considering he’d had a hectic eight weeks, it probably made sense. It still meant Tony was standing on the chosen bridge blowing into his hands and stamping his feet. 

He cursed his idiocy at not bringing gloves, but he hadn’t exactly expected the sky to start dropping _icicles_ on him. He was usually going from ducted heating to ducted heating or air conditioner to air conditioner; why would he bother with a weather report or a jacket he was only going to strip off inside anyway? He was regretting that now, even if there were only a few flakes falling so far.

The ground did have a nice white layer though which made him fear another hour here. He was glad JARVIS had warned him it would be cold; sure, _below freezing_ would have been a more accurate description. But he supposed it made it even _less_ likely someone would be trying to tail him; Tony knew if _he_ was a badly paid S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, _he’d_ certainly let a suspect’s ass ice over before getting out of the car and staking him out. Not that there should be anyone; JARVIS had watched for people following him, and he knew Loki would be just as thorough.

Tony glanced at his watch again and found it was just before two. He buried his hands in his pockets and contemplated pacing, wondering if it would help warm him up, but before he could even start moving, he heard the sound of boots coming closer. It would have been hard to notice over the faint traffic noise - isolated by surrounding foliage the bridge might be, and cordoned off for another three days until the final repairs were finished, but there were still roads on either side of the trees. Tony had also been listening for those footsteps for the last ten minutes, so he wasn’t about to miss them.

Tony looked up and found Loki slowly walking up the stairs to reach his level of the bridge. He was in a gorgeous dark green, almost black peacoat that was buttoned up. Its high-collar was cut diagonally so that one side was higher than the other. The bottom of the jacket almost reached his knees, and Tony felt underdressed and underprepared in his zipped-up hoodie and jeans. Loki had obviously looked into the weather; hell, he probably had an app for it on his phone that he actually _used_. The thought made a rush of fondness for him sweep through Tony.

Loki didn’t notice the expression; he didn’t seem inclined to notice anything other than that it actually was _Tony_. The second he registered it, Loki’s steps became longer and faster as he practically stalked towards him. Tony felt a small flare of concern, mostly because of the noticeable distress in Loki’s eyes, but it wasn’t enough to make him speak. He just kept looking at Loki’s twisted mouth with a concerned frown that was only growing. Loki seemed a second away from outright wincing, but despite that, there was also something determined about his stride and countenance too.

Tony was going to ask him or maybe just say Loki’s name, but Loki reached him first and cupped his face. It startled Tony, but not enough to flinch, just enough that when Loki kissed him, he didn’t expect it.

A small gasp escaped him, but Loki didn’t try to deepen the embrace; he just stroked Tony’s cheeks softly and carefully with his eyes closed and their mouths just pressed together. It was nothing like the kiss in the apartment as Tony was too surprised to react or shut his own gaze. He just raised his hands, but he wasn’t sure whether to pull Loki close or to push him back when it felt like a touch or a response could shatter the other.

Loki made the decision for him by breaking the kiss. His eyes were shut, and his voice was shaky. “Why did you bring me here?” he almost hissed the question. “Why did you ask the one thing I cannot resist? Why would you make me lose you _again?_ ”

“Loki-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Loki opened his eyes and they were green pools of agony. “Don’t tell me you’ve called me because our lie does not work, _please_. I cannot hear you say I am nothing more than a plot to you.” Tony opened his mouth to speak again, but Loki made a hurt noise, and his hand moved and covered Tony’s lips. When he was sure Tony wouldn’t speak, Loki moved his fingertips away and danced them along his cheek. “Shh,” he hushed, everything changing like it had never been. His eyes and voice dulled as he stared at his fingers for a long moment, “It’s alright,” he whispered brokenly, “I know you will.” He closed his eyes. “I apologise for my words.” He looked at Tony again. “I should not have said them. No, there is no other reason you would call me here if not for our ruse being in danger. Please,” he dropped his hand away, “tell me what has happened.”

Tony tried again, “Loki-”

“Nothing else yet, Anthony,” he faintly begged. “Just this, nothing more yet, _please_.”

Tony didn’t want to, but it was still something they needed to cover. The rest could wait until Loki looked less likely to break. He wet his lips and told Loki quietly, "Your brother thought you used me as bait like everyone else. They _did_ believe our ruse, Loki.”

“But?” Loki picked out.

“But he thought that the affection you faked for me was meant for someone else.” Loki frowned, so Tony continued to explain, "He’d found photos of you, lots of photos.”

“Of what?” But there was something despairing in his voice that said he knew.

“Reading my messages,” Tony answered, “avoiding Indian food,” Tony glanced down at Loki’s jacket, “touching your cufflinks.”

Loki closed his eyes, looking altogether drained, and Tony reached out and took the hands that were limp at Loki’s sides. They were as glove-less and chilled as his own, but when Loki startled, Tony doubted it was from the temperature but rather the touch. He gripped Tony back, his eyes falling to where they were holding on to the other.

“You indulge me,” Loki whispered.

“Hey,” Tony murmured until Loki looked up, “it’s not always that.”

Loki smiled thinly. “No, perhaps even you cannot resist comforting something so pitiful.”

“ _Loki_ ,” Tony tried to protest, his voice coming out strangled, but Loki just leant forward and softly connected their foreheads. Tony found the words dying on his tongue as the gentle touch combined with two thumbs lightly stroking the backs of his hands took his breath away.

“Would you grant me a little longer?”

Tony frowned. “What?”

Loki brought Tony’s hands up until he could place them on either side of Loki’s neck. He released them when he’d checked Tony would hold them there. He then brought his own forward to cup Tony’s cheeks once more.

“With you,” Loki eventually answered, “I would spend eternity in this spot,” he huffed out something that couldn’t even be called a laugh, “as it’s the moments after it I dread.”

“Loki,” he asked softly, “what do you mean?”

“We must find a means to stop this being discovered,” he murmured, “that can be done apart. Truly, you did not need to call me here at all. We can leave each other again, just like before,” Loki closed his eyes, “just like you want.”

“Is that what you thought when you came?” Tony asked, rubbing his thumbs against Loki’s neck and making him shudder and his eyelids flutter.

“I did not think there were photos or that Thor would look so closely at them, but yes, I had known there was some problem to our fabrication.” He smiled wanly. “Why else would you ask for _me?_ You never have before, my _Käresta_ , so there must be a reason for you to wish for my presence.”

“Maybe I just wanted you,” Tony suggested quietly.

Loki sucked in a sharp breath. “ _Don’t_.”

“Wha-” The glare Loki levelled at him made Tony’s mouth snap shut.

“Do not taunt me, Anthony. Do not say that when we _know_ ,” he fingers dug into Tony’s cheeks, “we _know_ you do not feel for me as I do for you.” He closed his eyes. “You may never do, and I have made myself accept this, Anthony. I’ve accepted your choice to remain with S.H.I.E.L.D., and I will _respect_ it, but you need to respect _mine_. You need to respect that even the last of my strength is failing me.” 

He moved a hand so that when he leant forward he could brush a faint kiss to Tony’s cheek. “I cannot continue like this; the more time I have in your presence, the more I want you in my bed, my life, and my home,” Loki sounded like each word was paining him and each breath sounded like a gasp. “I want you. I will _always_ want you, and this can’t exist between us. I don't wish to make the path you've chosen harder to walk down. I don’t wish to do anything to harm or cause trouble for you.”

Loki pulled back, finally catching Tony’s gaze with his eyes swimming with emotion. His fingers were trembling ever so slightly on Tony’s face. “I should have told you this; I should have said all these words at my apartment.” He swallowed and fully pulled away, removing his hands and making Tony’s face feel cold. “I'm leaving America."

"What?" Tony managed to croak out, wide-eyed and not at all expecting this would happen when he called Loki here.

He let out a heavy breathe before answering, "I'm leaving, Anthony. I do not trust myself not to take you from your job and your life again, to keep you with me for much less noble reasons than saving your life." He closed his eyes. “I don’t trust myself not to read into this request for my presence and to beg you for something more, to appeal to your lenience like I did that morning in my apartment.” He looked back at Tony. “I will always reach for you when I shouldn’t.”

“Loki. You can’t just-”

“You’re right,” Loki broke in, “I can’t, but I do anyway,” he gestured at Tony with a limp hand. “I have already stolen from you this evening. Of course, I have. I thought it my last chance, and had you brought S.H.I.E.L.D. with you, whatever else might have befallen me, I would have still tasted you once more.”

"That's why you kissed me first," Tony whispered, horrified.

Loki smiled faintly. "One reason among many; I would always kiss you if I thought you would allow it, my love." Tony startled at the endearment, but while Loki's eyes were sad, he didn’t look as if the action had surprised him. "They are the words you’ve always wanted to know. They mean many things, but they mean that and are what I have long felt for you. _Hjärtanskär_ ;" he looked painfully bittersweet, "'with all my heart'."

 _Oh God_ , Tony thought, his mind stalling on it. _He's been telling me from the beginning._

Swallowing, Tony felt his heart racing in his chest and making him feel almost sick with the emotions that were rushing through him; here was this stunning and dangerous man - this _criminal_ laying his heart in front of Tony’s feet, and it wasn’t even the first time. He’d constantly put it on the line with every touch and every whispered word.

Tony still didn’t know what to do with that kind of dedication, but the wind was blowing their hair, and he was getting colder the longer he stood here, but he knew he’d been _even colder_ after he’d been released from Loki’s protection. He’d _chosen_ to go back out into the world he used to call real and used to be happy with - but now it just felt like black and white without Loki to light it up like fireworks. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he knew it wasn’t letting Loki walk out on him, walk out of the _country_. He was too caught up in this mad, terrifying, _gorgeous_ man.

He reached up tentatively and brushed his fingers over Loki's cheek. Loki instantly leant into the touch, his eyes slipping closed and his mouth parting slightly like the touch was something close to heaven. Tony’s mouth opened, wanting to confess everything in that moment, but it all lodged in his throat, and no matter how many times he swallowed, it wouldn’t come out.

"Anthony?" Loki whispered the question.

"Why would you say all this to me?” Tony asked. "Why do you when you..." _are sure I don't love you, that you need to leave me behind again, that I’ll never choose you._

Loki's exhale was close enough to feel and see in the winter air, and Tony got the sudden impression that the next thing Loki was doing was breathing him in. "Because I am yet hopeful that you will reach for me, my _Käresta_." His mouth twitched, and his eyes opened. "Foolish, of course, but I have already received more than I ever dreamed would be given by you.”

"Loki," Tony got out, it was a strangled sound of the other’s name, but Loki hushed him, a hand coming up and stroking his face in comfort. _Comfort_ as if Tony was the one with a fracturing heart when instead he was the one who was stunned and aching. He was also lost. He’d come with a plan but couldn’t even remember what it was anymore, because Loki was holding him like the most precious object in his entire criminal empire, in the entire _world_ , and all Tony could do was stand there and let the confessions sink into his skin. All he could do was remember Jane Foster laying it out like the half-baked theory he’d been suspicious of and was entirely _true_.

_He also might have stopped his criminal activities on their request or just because he knew they wouldn’t approve._

"Loki, I don't-"

"Love me? Yes." Loki agreed, still brushing his cheek, like it meant nothing even when they both knew it must have broken him to acknowledge. "We both know that."

"I didn't-" _say that, didn't **say that**_. He tried to tell the other, but Loki must have thought he was going to say something else, and he quieted Tony with a very gentle kiss on the lips. It was just a soft press, but there was a slight metallic edge, and Tony suddenly knew that Loki had been biting his lip before he’d arrived. Loki had been fucking _nervous_ before he came here, so much so that he couldn't stop the tic from happening in the car ride over. He’d let it get to the point where he’d made himself bleed. _He’d been that prepared for heartbreak. Or that worried he’d do something he thought he shouldn’t_. Tony made a pained noise at the idea, at the image of Loki’s composure shattered around him, but Loki misconstrued the sound and pulled back.

It wasn’t enough to shuffle his feet in the snow; he was just where he was before only without their lips together. "I almost wish you would hit me," Loki confessed, an edge of frustration in his voice, "or push me away. I had thought that coming over here, Anthony. ' _I need him to tell me to stop_.’ I told myself it would ease the ache of not having you, that it would make it easier to keep my hands from your skin and yet," Loki’s thumb stroked his face again, a soothing gesture that was as much for Tony as it was for Loki. "I can't bear to hear you say those words to me. I can't bear the loss of pretending you could love me how I love you. I need this lie, Anthony. I need this to walk away from you."

“To walk out of the _country_ ,” Tony brought up, needing to cover that because _what the fuck, Loki?!_

“Yes,” Loki agreed, “I’m leaving America.” He swallowed noticeably. “I am leaving... everything." He caught Tony's eyes again and held them with determination. "My so-called empire will be dismantled before I depart; my crimes will not reach your laboratory or any other’s ever again.”

“W-What?”

Loki’s eyes skittered from him. “Surely you of all people, Anthony, would understand taking another path in life?”

“Yeah, but-” Tony cut himself off with wide eyes. Suddenly catching on to what Loki was implying. “Me. You’re doing that for me.” Tony had left Stark Industries for his Mother, for the desire to help people who were equally affected by unnatural deaths. Loki was throwing away his self-made criminal career for Tony. No, no, that was wrong - not for Tony, he didn’t think he had Tony or that this would get him what he wanted. So why was he giving it away? “Why would you do that?”

"Because I can’t offer you anything else," Loki replied, smiling sadly. "Had I been a better man I might have offered myself to your shackles, allowed you to gain justice for the people I have harmed, but I don't wish to do this for them." He leant forward and pressed their cheeks together, close enough to whisper softly in his ear. "But I would do anything in my power for _you_."

Loki moved back slowly before running his eyes over Tony's face - committing a memory the way he always did. He closed his eyes for a moment when he was done before he stepped back and dropped all their touches, the movement slipping Tony’s hands from Loki.

He put enough distance between them that Tony would have needed to take a step to be able touch him again. "I wish you health, love, and happiness," Loki said quietly. "I wish you find all that you want in your life, Anthony Stark. I-" Tony didn’t let Loki finish as he took that step needed to close that distance. "Wha-?"

Grabbing the collar of Loki's jacket, Tony yanked him down. It wasn’t as rough as it could have been; he didn't want their faces to collide, but it was still hard, still _forceful_. It was also the first time in the dance that Loki had drawn him into that Tony kissed Loki _first_.

Loki sucked in a breath before releasing the most _broken_ noise that Tony had ever heard. His arms were wrapped instantly around Tony’s back as he brought him the remaining inches closer. They were fully pressed together when Loki tilted his head, slid their mouths together and swiped a tongue across Tony's bottom lip that was begging him for entrance. Tony didn’t hesitate, and Loki made another sound as his tongue met Tony's; it was something disbelieving and blissed-out, and Tony felt his own moan escape at the intoxicating _need_ that radiated off of Loki as they kissed. Loki clung to him like he was about to disappear, and Tony held on just as tightly so that Loki _wouldn’t_. Because he knew Loki, knew how good he could be at covering his tracks, and if Loki decided to go off the grid and hide from the world then Tony wasn’t sure if even _he'd_ be able to find him. He wasn’t going to give Loki that chance.

Loki didn’t seem ready to run yet though. He felt the other’s hand move hesitantly into his hair, and when Tony just relaxed into the hold, Loki tightened his grip and sunk his fingers in deep. He would rearrange Tony ever so slightly, constantly checking if it was okay with a flick of his fingers, the shy press of his mouth as they darted in and out of kisses, pausing to gasp in air but never to speak. Loki wouldn’t even open his eyes, and it was only when Tony's chest was aching from too few gasps in-between that he finally broke away.

He angled back enough that Loki's next attempt to capture his mouth again failed; it hurt to see Loki's eyes squeeze even tighter shut as if in preparation for something upsetting before he opened them and blinked at Tony. He could see Loki taking in his kiss-swollen lips, the flush on his cheeks, and mess of his hair. When Loki pressed their foreheads together Tony wasn’t surprised; he needed a moment to get a grip on himself as well.

"Was that my goodbye?" Loki questioned, his voice wrecked from either the kissing or his emotions. _Both probably_ , Tony thought. "To finally be able to gain a kiss from you?"

"You're so pessimistic," Tony whispered. He was smiling slightly, but he had nerves twisting and churning under his skin and he didn’t even know why. Loki loved him - _loved him so fucking much_ \- but Tony was still worried about saying the same thing back? Loki had just said he would be giving up everything for him and had confessed it all believing it would get him nothing in return. _Stop being such a fucking coward_ , his inner-Barnes growled at him, and Tony swallowed down his remaining worry. "I don't know how to do love," he blurted out and he could feel Loki flinch slightly, but he ploughed on. "And I didn't know how to do it with a criminal I was trying to catch. It was also really fucking hard to think about how much I liked you for the longest time. Everyone I know hates and wants to capture you and I was supposed to be the same."

Loki’s entire body had tightened at his words, and he hardly seemed to be breathing.

“Supposed to?” Loki repeated, saying the words very carefully - like he was afraid they would fracture the hope that was audible in his voice.

"I didn't hate you," Tony confessed. "I was too impressed to really hate you when we started, but I don't, fuck, I don't know.” He’d have run a hand through his hair if Loki's wasn't still tangled amongst the strands, and his own hadn't migrated to loosely wrap around Loki's neck. "But I liked you for a long time, especially when you started emailing me. It only got harder to deny as we kept talking and had dinner." He swallowed. “And then when I was living with you, I...”

Loki drew back once he’d trailed off so he could look Tony in the eye, and there was so much fearful longing swimming in those depths. "What are you saying to me?"

"I'd run with you," Tony told him and found that he really meant it. "I couldn't be a criminal with you, well," he grinned a little, "no more than I already am. But something in between? Something that's still managing some good?" Tony's face softened, and he knew it would be an expression very similar to the one that Loki had given to his phone and been the catalyst for this very moment, of making him come _back_. "I'd do that with you."

Loki sucked in a breath and hissed it out, but there was a finite shake to the words when he spoke, "Say it." He managed to get himself back under control to say it firmer, to _order_ it. " _Say it_."

"I love you too."

There was a brief silence where Tony was certain he could hear a pin drop before Loki laughed, and it wasn’t his usual amused chuckle or even his evil sniggers, it was something bubbling with incredulity and happiness. It was almost a _giggle_ , and Tony thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Loki pulled him close but didn’t even kiss him; he _hugged_ him, and Tony wrapped his looped arms even tighter around in return. They embraced like they never planned to let go and like nothing could drag them apart. ‘ _I love you_ ’, Loki whispered over and over again, his voice cracking on occasion but Tony ignored the fractured tone and just joined him in saying it back as much as he could.

There were faint trembles that Tony would never admit was the relief flooding through them both and not just the effect of the cold.

“This won’t be easy,” Loki told him, pressing the words close to his cheek. “This will mean hiding.” He pulled back and even now he was giving Tony an out. “You don’t need to do this.” He cupped Tony’s cheek. “I love you, but I won’t make you leave.”

Tony leant forward and caught Loki’s pursed lips. “It almost killed me to give you up before; I’m not doing it again.”

“I thought you didn’t care,” Loki whispered with lingering disbelief, “I thought it was only me.”

Tony shook his head. “I fell in love with you there, spending time with you and cooking dinners. I didn’t want to leave any more than you wanted me to go.”

“Why did you?” Loki looked like he regretted the question the second it escaped, but Tony still answered it.

“I felt obligated. I felt like this couldn’t be real and that as soon as I was back, it would stop hurting.” He smiled. “I thought I could fall out of love with you, but I couldn’t; I only ended up wanting you more and hating myself for wrecking everything.”

Loki shook his head and drew him into another kiss. “You came back; you’re _here_ ,” he laughed again, light and incredulous, “I didn’t believe this would ever happen.”

“Well, it _has_ ,” Tony assured him, “and this time, I’m not going anywhere.”

Loki made a different but just as pleased noise and pulled him into another embrace that Tony happily melted into, kissing Loki and pushing his cold hands under Loki’s jacket until the other shivered and made an _indecent_ sound that reminded Tony of all the ways he could make Loki fall apart.

He got a wicked idea and couldn’t resist, he _very deliberately_ flicked his tongue the way he had in the apartment. Loki groaned before he broke the kiss, eyes wide and faintly shocked. Tony made a point of licking his lip. “Do you want something, Loki?” His eyes danced with lust and love. “Ask me for it.”

Tony was so busy vibrating with delight, excitement, and desire that he would easily get down on his knees and blow Loki on this bridge if he was asked, was faintly hoping for it, truthfully. He would also go _home_ with Loki and curl around him. He would kiss him until their lips were blue and the sun was rising; he was ready for anything as long as it meant more of Loki.

“Tell me you're mine,” Loki requested, knocking the hunger out of Tony and replacing it with something of softer warmth. “Tell me I’m _yours_.”

Tony couldn’t stop the way he smiled before he pulled Loki close, whispering those coveted words over and over again until Loki would dare to trust them.

It still wasn’t perfect, and everything certainly wasn’t fixed. Loki would take some time to realise he wasn’t leaving and it would be hard as they set up a way to be together over the coming months.

Loki would need to break down his criminal empire and disappear so thoroughly that anybody who might try to hurt or jail him wouldn’t have a single place to start. Tony was going to have to find a way to go off the grid without inspiring Barnes to go AWOL from S.H.I.E.L.D and try to track him down. He also still had his obligation as the best man, and Tony _wouldn’t_ leave before he fulfilled it.

It was going to be complicated, and Tony wasn’t looking forward to it at all, but it wasn’t enough to stop him or even dampen the perfect feeling of the man in his arms, sinking into Tony like he couldn’t comprehend that Tony was real. A part of _Tony_ couldn’t fathom that it was actually real. A day ago, he was trying to fit himself back into the role of being a forensic scientist a world away from the man in front of him, trying to tell himself a criminal couldn't be in love with him - trying to tell himself he wasn’t in love with Loki too.

Yet here he was; here _they were_.

They were ready to throw aside the lives they’d built as long as the one in their future had the two of them together - not on opposite sides, not on any sides at all. They were giving up the game to sit in the stands, to watch everyone else play without them and to forget they had ever been there at all. Tony didn’t know what they'd do in the future, what they'd be able to create together, but Loki was one of a kind, like no one he’d ever met or someone he could ever live without.

They were both too smart for their own good, utterly tied up in each other, and completely in love. There was nothing they couldn’t do if they tried, and to be together?

Well, they’d do anything.

_**The End** _

_**... Well, not exactly.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I might have been a _teeny, tiny_ bit dishonest, hehe. 
> 
> See, while the story _does_ finish here... the story of these guys kind of doesn't. Now, that doesn't mean there's a _sequel_ in the sense of a whole new story. There are, however, numerous ficlets attached to this universe; six of these are alternative POV's that accompany moments/scenes/reactions that tie into specific chapters of the story. There are also a bunch more that are set _post_ story. So 'sequel drabbles', if you like, that follow Loki and Tony after their confession scene.
> 
> Soooo, for anyone upset that it 'ended' this week? Joke's on you, there are now many more (an unspecified amount at the moment, heh) Friday updates, surprise! I'll be posting them the same way I posted these chapters only in a separate chaptered work. I'll be making this story a part of a series tonight (as I can't let anyone know about the continuation until they reach the end of this chapter, can I? A link would destroy all my fun! XD) 
> 
> So, here you are (if you're interested) a [link](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7612291/chapters/17327083) to the first pieces of the continuation/sequel series :)
> 
>  **EDIT - 23rd May 2018:** In case you missed it earlier in the story the _amazing_ and _incredible_ **lampwithoutlight** has drawn some fanart for Loki &Tony from this series and it can be found [here](https://lampwithoutlight.tumblr.com/post/174150024904/i-read-a-lovely-fanfiction-fractals-of-a-criminal). Please check it out and give them all the love and tumblr reblogs! :D


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